


Oh Merlin

by Snarry5evr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, Complete, Complete disregard of the legends of King Arthur and Merlin, I apologize for the bastardization of such timeless characters, M/M, Minor Harry/OCs, Powerful Harry, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13227198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarry5evr/pseuds/Snarry5evr
Summary: Snape gets a surprise when Voldemort sends him on a quest to fetch Merlin’s wand.Or, Harry always did have the unfortunate tendency to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year. I hope this starts your year off right. Just a side note, it took me about 2 weeks to write this but 2 months to beta due to the language. I hope it's not too hard to understand and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Side note: There are a TON of hidden Easter eggs in this fic (not all HP)
> 
> Also, thanks to my betas Masao and Dannielle. (I apologize for making you learn archaic languages)

Severus glared at the offending cave. Or what should have been a cave. It  _ was _ a cave, if one had enough magical power to see past the intense glamours and charms. Which he did, thank you very much. He dragged a hand down his face with a sigh, but only because the Dark Lord had given him the amulet. He fingered the green stone of the necklace, fighting back the desire to yank the chain from his neck and make the wavering apparition disappear for good. A year. An entire year he’d wasted on this bloody quest for his “master” and he ended up a stone’s throw from where he’d started. Severus glared out over the horizon, his thoughts, as they so often did these days, drifting to Potter.

It had been nearly three years since that fateful night Albus Dumbledore had fallen and Severus and Draco Malfoy had escaped the school. Oh, Severus had returned the following year as headmaster, and in mid-May, Potter and the rest of the trio had returned to attempt to face the Dark Lord. They had apparently succeeded in destroying most of the Horcruxes and whatever else Albus had assigned them, or so Severus thought. Unfortunately there had been something about a wand, and Potter had spouted his big mouth off before the crucial moment and this and that and a struggle amidst flying curses, and Potter ended up with Albus’s old wand but Nagini had disappeared with the Dark Lord. Quickly followed by the fighting Death Eaters and other followers. 

No one had even bothered to show up to the school the following year, so Severus had been  tucked away in some dark manor or other and left to brew for the Dark Lord’s purposes while the Order had taken over the school with stronger wards than the small village of Hogsmeade had ever known. Apparently, Potter had taken quickly to his new wand. Since then, there had been minor skirmishes, nothing too horrible. But then again, the Dark Lord had a new goal in mind. If he couldn’t have the most powerful wand floating around Britain, he’d have the most powerful wand in the world. Severus had spent nearly two hours trying to figure out how to get out of that one. Until Malfoy Sr had dragged himself into Severus’s lab, bloody and bruised. Relief had swept through Severus as Lucius had explained that, apparently, the Merlin’s wand the Ministry so proudly displayed was not actually Merlin’s wand. Finally, a reprieve. 

Though not for long. 

Severus spent months brewing Veritaserum and other truth potions as person after person was brought in and, ahem, ‘questioned’. And Severus, or Lucius, or someone, had been sent on quest after quest until Severus had volunteered to follow every lead himself. He couldn’t afford to let one of the actually loyal Death Eaters find that damn wand. What he was going to do once he found the wand he had no idea. But, he supposed he had better make a decision because it looked like he was almost there.

“Sir?”

His attention went to the young man standing just to the left, his grey-blue eyes filled with fear. Severus snarled at the man. “Well? Where is it? You drag me out here to the wilds of Scotland to stare at a stone wall? Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord will do when he realizes you are wasting my time?” Severus demanded of the man.

The Ministry lackey cringed visibly. “B-but this is where the archivist indicated, sir. He swore there was a powerful enchantment here and his research-”

Severus sneered, cutting the man off. “Do you  _ feel _ any enchantments here?” He knew the answer even before the man fearfully shook his head. “I highly suggest returning to your  _ informant _ and be re-informed.”

“B-but I can’t, sir. He’s g-gone.” 

Severus lifted a brow. “Gone?”

The man nodded vigorously with a shaky “Y-yes. Th-the young blonde, Mr. Malfoy, took the archivist a-away last week. I h-haven’t seen the old wizard since.”

No, he wouldn’t have. Not if Draco had gotten to the man finally. “Then I suppose you talk to one of your other contacts.”

The lackey swallowed thickly, his mouth gaping as he tried to figure out what to say. There were no other contacts. They had all been slowly disappearing. No doubt the quivering man before him thought they were dead. Severus, and Draco, knew better. It had been Draco’s idea to create the small portkeys that he could slip to the prisoners. Severus had been unable to key them past the wards of Hogwarts, but he knew the castle grounds were constantly patrolled, and an unconscious form just outside the castle gates would be found immediately. Or that had been the idea. There was no way to know if the plan had worked, but they had continued creating portkeys. Draco was quickly rising in the ranks with his mounting number of “kills.” There were, of course, some they couldn’t save. But, hopefully, they had gotten enough of the archivists to Hogwarts that the Order had figured out what the Dark Lord was up to. 

Severus took pity on the gaping man before him and fingered his wand. He cast the same spell he had used on Mundungus all those years before. “The archivist mentioned a man by the name of Algiers Bernstein, an expert on Arthurian legends. He has sequestered himself in the Russian mountains. It is imperative that you leave immediately to find him; surely he has the last missing piece of information that will allow us to find Merlin’s tomb.”

The young man nodded and, with a swirl of his puce robes, Disapparated. Severus breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the cave entrance. He held his hand out and felt the strong wards emanating from the darkness beyond. No, the young man wouldn’t have been able to feel the enchantments, as subtle and intricate as they were. Severus pulled his wand out and cautiously stepped towards the black hole. It was just large enough for him to step through. He raised his wand into the darkness, but before he could utter a Lumos, weak candles sprang to life. He blinked at the sudden rush of soft light and held his wand at the ready as he moved cautiously forward. 

He wondered again if it was even worth it. He had a feeling it was all a mere formality now. With Potter’s disappearance a month ago it was only a matter of time before the resistance began to crumble. Not for the first time did Severus curse an old man putting the fate of the world on the shoulders of a mere boy. Yes, Potter had been powerful, could have been truly magnificently powerful given the right tutelage and a little time, but time was not something they could afford. But it was only a rumor. That was what Severus held on to. The hope that the Boy Wonder’s spectacular disappearance was merely an elaborate ruse to bring out the Dark Lord or ease him into a sense of security. Either way, Severus wasn’t ready to give up hope just yet.

His eyes darted from wall to ceiling to floor as he stepped cautiously along the rocky path. Surely there would be traps or something to keep the great Merlin safe from trespassers--more than merely a few powerful enchantments and wards that one could easily slip through with the help of a power-enhancing amulet. He followed the cave as it twisted and turned until he came to another doorway. He stepped forward but stumbled back as the doorway seemed to flare to life with a surge of magic. The doorway shimmered, and an almost translucent gold barrier seemed to appear over the opening and runes began to appear, or shimmer to life, around the doorframe. Severus tried to study the runes as they appeared, but they continued to shift before his eyes, glowing a bright white then fading to a soft blue before appearing  ancient and worn almost smooth, as if they had been engraved in the stone this entire time and Severus had just happened to miss them. He hadn’t. They hadn’t. He read over the unfamiliar language.  _ Ere hret neyamtra ehfoer upehtyl no. E raweb sreta eh taed.  _ Well fuck! He had studied a lot of foreign languages in his research for potions and spell creating, but this didn’t come close to any language, dead or otherwise, that he recognized. Of course, Nimue  _ had _ been a rather clever witch. Perhaps one had to decipher her meaning? Severus stared at the words for almost an hour trying to rearrange the letters, casting revealing spells, and, even in a desperate attempt, a Confundus. He’d tossed a loose pebble at the golden barrier and cringed when it had dissolved on impact.

Tired from being up half the night following the ministry lackey to the secluded spot and irritated from being so close to his goal, Severus let out a frustrated growl. “Damn you, Potter! Damn you for being such a Gryffindor, damn you for not finishing this two years ago, and damn you for disappearing.” He turned and slumped against the wall, pressing the back of his hand to his sweaty brow. “You should be the one retrieving this damn wand. You should be the one claiming it. How the  _ fuck  _ am I supposed to get it to you?” He exhaled loudly and dropped his head back against the wall of the cave, and his hand dropped to bounce against the cool stone. His wand clattered against the doorframe as it bounced in his fingers. Suddenly he felt a small vibration in his wand and jerked it back. He pushed off the wall and spun around in time to see a few of the letters fade back to a soft blue and  once again blend into the stonework. He blinked. Was that it? Was that all he had to do? Something so simple? Cautiously he reached his wand out again and set the tip against one of the embedded letters. It immediately began to glow a soft white, illuminating the entire letter. Severus once again felt the soft vibration in his wand. He pressed the length of his wand against the other letters, and they too began to burn white. The vibration in his wand increased, and he felt it travel down his fingers, up his arm, and over his chest. His entire body seemed to hum with the gentle vibration as if it were moving through him, studying him. All at once the whiteness began to seep into the other letters of the odd language, as if the door had interpreted his desire, his intent. Bloody hell.  _ Intent _ . Of course. The letters lit up like the lights on a Strong-Man carnival game, judging his worth. When all the letters were glowing a bright white they once again faded to the soft blue. Severus held his breath, wondering if they would fade back to the color of the stone again, but the blue held steady until, all at once, the gold film over the door seemed to crumple like the dropping of a curtain into non-existence, and the blue did indeed fade back to blend in with the stone. Severus held his wand against the stone for several more minutes, unable to believe how easy it had been. He blinked at the open doorway and slowly dropped his hand. He took a step back in disbelief. Was this it? Had he truly found Merlin’s tomb? Merlin’s wand? Merlin himself? The most powerful wizard to ever walk the British Isles, no, the world. The man that had lain in a dark cave for a thousand years waiting for King Arthur's return. Severus scoffed at the irony of it all. He reached down and picked up a small pebble and carefully tossed it towards the doorway. It sailed through into the blackness beyond, and he heard the soft _ clack clack clack _ as it bounced to a stop.

Wand out once again, he carefully stepped through the darkened doorway. As before, candles flared to life, brightening the chamber. He stopped to take in the large chamber that held only a single glass coffin on a raised dais, a table with two stone chairs, and an old trunk at the bottom of the dais next to a set of stairs. Well, so much for all the riches he had supposedly been buried with. Severus slowly crossed the cave, his footsteps echoing in the vast cavern. He was careful as he placed a foot on each step as he moved up towards the coffin. He studied the figure in the casket as he moved closer. The man seemed younger than Severus had thought he would be, but then again, Merlin’s transformation abilities were renowned. There had never been a clear idea on just how old the man had been when he’d appeared by King Arthur’s side, nor how old he’d been when Nimue had trapped him here. Severus had always assumed Nimue had killed Merlin and made up the story about the man waiting for Arthur’s return, but the body beneath the glass looked as fresh and alive as if he’d merely lain down and gone to sleep. Severus reached the last step and moved to finally look down on the famous wizard’s youthful face.

It could have been the exhaustion. Possibly the irony once again rearing its ugly head. Or maybe it was just the absurdity of the situation. It didn’t matter. Severus dropped to his knees as his laughter filled the cavern. He raised his hands to cover his face as he felt the tears on his cheeks. Only him. Only this. Only  _ his  _ life would come to such a full circle. Oh, Merlin! 


	2. Part 1: Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early for Masao's b-day. Thanks for all the support through this and so many other fics.

Harry groaned as he tried to block out the bright sunlight. “Close the curtains, Ron,” he mumbled, hoping his friend was indeed awake enough to hear him.

“I am not thy ‘Ron’ of which thou speakest, stranger, and I have no curtains to close.”

Harry sat up, wand in hand, immediately alert at the strange voice. He blinked at the old man sitting at the rickety table across from him. The man wore an old tunic that reminded Harry of Dobby’s dishtowel apron, and his gruff beard needed a trim. The man brought a tankard to his lips and sipped at the liquid inside. He dropped the cup back to the table.

“Thou mayest lower thy wand, stranger. I mean thee no harm. Thou art merely lucky ‘twas I that found thee and not the king’s men. Strangers in these parts be most unwelcome in these trying times.”

Harry carefully lowered his wand, though he kept a tight grip on it, and looked around at the small cottage that reminded him of Hagrid’s old hut before it had been destroyed. “Um, where am I and who are you?”

The man gave him an odd look. “Thou speakest oddly, young wizard. My name is Errol Blaise, and thou art in Britain. I found thee in mine orchard this morn and brought thee here to rest.”

Harry blinked at the man. _He_ was the one speaking oddly? Had the man even listened to himself? “Er, what year is it?” Well, it never hurt to be thorough.

“It is the year of our lord five hundred and ninety-eight. And what is thy name, young wizard?”

Five hundred- No! The spell wasn’t supposed to send him _back_ to Merlin’s time. It was only supposed to help him _contact_ Merlin. “Merlin,” Harry groaned as he lowered his face into his hands.

“An odd name to be sure. But we rarely have little say in what our parents christen us.”

Harry’s head shot up. “What?”

The man stood from the table. “Well, make haste, young Merlin. The day is still young, and I have need of thine aide. I am not as young as I used to be.”

“What? No, I-” but the man had already walked out the door, leaving it swinging in his wake. Harry stumbled from the small cot and followed the man outside, deciding he should simply go with it until he could figure out what had happened. “I didn’t mean-” but the man cut him off again, indicating the small orchard around them.

“Mine apples have need of harvesting, and I am not as young as I used to be. Not to mention I have wasted half a day seeing to thy recovery. My scans tell me there is nothing wrong with thee that a bit of work and feed shan’t cure.”

Harry blushed at the trouble he had caused the man. “You’re a wizard?”

The man gave him another odd look. “That I am, young Merlin. Now, shall I teach thee the spell to harvest mine apples?”

Harry nodded and went to work. After the apples were harvested, he helped the old man make preserves and sauces. The man’s grandson would be by in a few days to take the wares to market. In the meantime, the man asked no questions and provided Harry with “decent” clothing because it “wouldn’t do” for him to go about in such “ragged robes.” Well, they hadn’t been ragged when he’d put them on. He decided time travel apparently didn’t treat one’s clothes well: at least not time travel that sent one back over a thousand years. Harry gave up trying to correct the old man on his name, thinking perhaps the Merlin of their time wasn’t so well known yet. If Harry remembered correctly, Merlin was better known as King Arthur’s advisor, and there currently was no King Arthur. In fact, there apparently was no rightful king at the moment.

Errol’s grandson arrived almost a week after Harry had appeared in the middle of the man’s apple orchard. Harry was surprised to note the “boy” was actually a few years older than Harry and reminded him of Hermione with his eagerness to soak up knowledge. The grandson, Ambrosius Blaise, was studying with the king’s scholars (Harry didn’t ask how there could be king’s scholars when there was no king) and took off once a quarter to come visit his grandfather and sell the man’s wares. Ambrosius was a squib, but that didn’t stop him from knowing all about magic and such. It was during the man’s second night there that Ambrosius said anything useful.

“And there’s to be another tournament next fortnight. The winner shall be allowed to attempt to pull the sword once again.”

Harry’s ears perked up, and he glanced from the old man to the younger. The wizard barely paid any attention to the man’s words.

“The sword?” Harry questioned.

The other man nodded enthusiastically. “Ay. The sword in the stone.”

Harry choked on his ale. “Sword. In the… stone.”

Ambrosius nodded fiercely, reminding Harry of a bobble-head doll. “Ay. There’s a stone in the middle of the castle courtyard, and the sword in it is said to be enchanted so that only the true king of Britain can remove it.” Harry nodded. He remembered this story. Arthur would eventually pull the sword and become King of England with his Knights of the Round Table and Merlin and- Merlin! “I need to go with you,” he demanded at Ambrosius, and the two Blaises looked at him. “I need to be near that sword. When the true king of En- Britain is found he will have a powerful wizard by his side, and I need that wizard to help get me home.”

It was the first time he had mentioned outright that he wasn’t from around there. The issue had been skirted around, but the two had never actually said the words. Harry blinked up at the two men. Errol was the first to speak.

“I suppose t’will not hurt Ambrosius nor the horses to have such a small amount of added weight. What wilt thou do whilst thou wait for our... future king?”

Harry shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. But things tend to work out for me.”

The man gave a soft chuckle. “It seemeth they do indeed, young Merlin.”

 

So two days later, Harry and Ambrosius loaded up the rickety wagon with the apple preserves and other wares from the old wizard’s stores. While the two Blaise’s said their goodbyes Harry slipped the small purse he’d been holding for Hermione when he’d cast that fateful spell from his pocket and opened it up. “Accio ruby,” he whispered and caught the small ruby that flew into his hand. He quickly moved across the kitchen to drop it into the small canister Harry knew Errol kept his coins in. He stepped out into the sunshine and profusely thanked the man for his congeniality and Errol wished him luck in his endeavours. Harry and Ambrosius set off. Harry spent nearly two hours asking Ambrosius questions about his time as he thought it best to know about this era he was currently living in if he was going to have to interact with others.

They made camp for the night in a small wooded area and Ambrosius made a stew from a rabbit he had caught on his way back from a dip in the lake. They rose with the sun and continued on. Harry got bored about an hour into their travels and pulled open Hermione’s bag, pulling a book from its depths. Ambrosius gaped in astonishment, and Harry explained about the extension charm. Ambrosius begged Harry to read to him, so Harry read through the advanced charms book and grabbed an empty wine bottle to show him some of the charms. Ambrosius was thrilled at the advanced magic his own family had never experienced, and Harry felt like he was introducing a third year to Honeydukes. After a jostled lunch as they ate in the wagon, Harry pulled out a transfiguration book and read more to Ambrosius. That night it began to rain as they stopped, and Harry pulled out the tent that was still stuffed in the bag from their Horcrux hunt. He pushed the memories of his failed attempt to defeat Voldemort from his mind.

They joined a throng of wagons on the third day; Ambrosius explained it was the people heading for the tournament. A thrill shot through Harry, and he put away _1001_ _Herbs and Their Uses, Fifth Edition_ to watch the different carriages. He could see the ranks of the people in how they dressed and carried themselves. As the day faded and the other wagons veered off to join groups of tents, Harry felt a sense of elation as the castle finally came into view. Ambrosius had a small room over the apothecary, and Harry helped him unload the wares to keep them safe from the city thieves. Harry transfigured a chair into a small cot and settled down to sleep. They rose early the next morning, and Harry thanked Ambrosius profusely for the ride as they reloaded the wares into a different wagon that the man would take out to the tournament grounds to sell off. He waved the man off and headed towards the castle courtyard. Locating the stone was easy, all he had to do was follow the crowd. Ambrosius had mentioned the tournament would start in three days and would last a week as the contestants dwindled down. Harry would need money and a place to stay. He supposed it would be easy enough to set his tent up with the others on the tournament grounds, but he really needed to be as close to the stone as possible. He had no idea when Arthur would pull the sword, and he needed to be as close as possible in order to speak to Merlin. The _actual_ Merlin.

He spent the day roaming the city, taking in the sights of the medieval atmosphere. He found the small Wizarding pub by accident. A small, nondescript door that seemed to almost appear out of nowhere and those around him simply ignored. To one such as him it could only mean one thing. He slipped through the door into a small room so very reminiscent of the Leaky Cauldron. Several people glanced up at his entrance but went right back to their food and conversations. Harry stepped up to the barkeep who glanced up from wiping the counter.

“Perhaps y- thou couldst help me, kind barkeep.” The man blinked up at him. Harry tried to remember the dialogue he had overheard that day and attempted to mimic the wording. “I wondered if this establishment perhaps was the way to…” Harry paused and decided to press his luck, “Gringotts.”

The man’s eyes lit with recognition. “Thou hast trade with the noted goblin?”

Harry nodded. “I wish to speak with him in regards to a mutual trade.”

The barkeep nodded and pointed to a door that Harry hadn’t noticed before. “If thou hast a wand, ‘twill open the door. If nay, thou must pay to send a messenger.”

Harry nodded and pulled his wand from beneath the tunic he had taken to wearing. The barkeep nodded, and Harry stepped over to the door. It opened at a touch from his wand, and Harry stepped through into a world that was like a medieval Diagon Alley. The muddy street was lined with small wooden shops which reminded Harry of the streets he had so recently stepped from save the feel of wards and enchantments that washed over him. He made his way down the street, reading the signs on the buildings until he came to one with a sign that read _Gringotts and sons: Crafters and Loans_. Harry stepped into the small shop and came face to face with a fierce-looking goblin. The small creature glared at him, and Harry gave a deep bow.

“Good day, fine sir. Might I request a meeting with the Loans portion of this esteemed establishment?”

The goblin eyed him suspiciously. “And what would a fine goblin like him want with a wizard?”

Harry eyed the goblin. “I could mayhap offer him something that no one else can,” Harry answered evasively, thinking fast. It wasn’t really playing with the past if it was bound to happen anyways, he argued the tiny Hermione in his mind.

The goblin huffed and stepped through a door. He reappeared a moment later and glared at Harry. “Come.”

Harry followed the goblin through the door and really should not have been surprised when they entered a corridor that was longer than it should have been. They eventually came to a door labeled S. Gringott, and the goblin pushed it open, motioning for Harry to enter. Harry stepped in and the door slammed shut behind him. It took all his self control not to whip his wand out and look for traps. His eyes landed on the well-dressed goblin behind the counter, and he bowed deeply.

“Welcome to Gringotts. Might I have the… pleasure of knowing the name of the wizard that deems us lowly goblins fit enough to do business with?”

Harry wondered if Merlin was known to the wizarding world yet. For some reason he was reluctant to give them the name of Harry Potter. Someone down the line might make the connection. “I have recently gone by the name of Merlin,” he answered truthfully.

The goblin’s brow went up, and he gave a small nod. “Very well… Goodman Merlin. I am Master Gringott. How may I be of service to thee?”

“I wondered if thou might wish to make a trade. I am in need of funds with very limited means to obtain such necessities. I have something that might interest thee,” he added quickly at the goblin’s look of foreboding.

“What couldst thou, a mere wizard, have to offer me?”

Harry gave the goblin a calculating look. “A piece of the future.”

He saw the look of interest that flashed in the goblin’s face before he got it under control. “Thou art a Seer, then? Shalt thou tell me on whom to place my odds in the forthcoming tournament?”

Harry waved his hand. “I do not dally in such trivial matters,” he said, attempting to sound like Dumbledore. “I can tell thee this: thou wouldst do well to divide your interests. If thou handle things right, ye couldst become the greatest Wizarding bank in the British Isles.”

A gleam of interest lit the goblin’s eyes. “More so than the Gallic upstart, Borgin?”

“The pawnbroker,” Harry said, remembering the small shop several buildings back. Harry snorted. “He will become nothing more than a back alley dark artefacts dealer if he cannot control his descendants.”

The goblin seemed to perk up. “Thou seemest to know quite a bit about our descendants.” The goblin eyed Harry speculatively. “Perhaps a test of thy perception, if thou wilt?”

Harry nodded. “I will do my best; though, I will admit that I do not know everything,” he added with a smirk. The goblin gave a wry smile.

“I have recently been approached by a gentleman who wisheth to obtain a loan to establish a shopfront. For many generations his family has run their business from their home, but with the current trend of localized wizarding schools appearing across the Isle, there has been talk of centralizing more businesses in our little corner here.”

Harry wasn’t quite sure if the road he had walked down was in the same location as his Diagon Alley or if it would eventually be moved. “Thou wisheth to know if ‘twill be a wise investment?” The goblin gave a curt nod. “What sort of business is the man’s family in?”

“Magical accoutrements,” the goblin said vaguely.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember what the word meant. “Wands,” his mind finally supplied, and the goblin gave a small nod.

“Correct, Goodman Merlin.”

Harry once again closed his eyes trying to remember everything about the wand shop he had visited when he was eleven. “If the gentleman in question is a Master Ollivander and his family has been creating wands for nearly a thousand years, then I would have to say ‘twould be a wise investment.” He remembered something from back in his fourth year during the wand weighing ceremony. “If perhaps the gentleman in question is of the Gregorovitch family, he should stick to the continent.” Harry opened his eyes to see the goblin eyeing him with something akin to respect.

“Even my son is unaware of the request from Gregorovitch.” It had been a shot in the dark, but Harry kept the surprise from his face. “Very well, Master Merlin. Perhaps I _can_ be of some assistance to you.”

An hour later, Harry had exchanged a few small gems for muggle and wizarding money and was making his way back to the muggle side of the inn after securing a room for the week. He made his way back to the stone and mingled among the crowd until it began to disperse. He returned to the inn for a quick dinner before pulling his invisibility cloak from Hermione’s bag and donning it. He made his way to the stone and slipped past the snoring guard. He could feel the enchantments emanating from the stone and eyed the sword that protruded from the rock. It was plain, some sort of aged, tempered steel or whatever they made weapons out of in this time. Surely this wasn’t Excalibur. He had seen drawings of Arthur’s magnificent sword, and this did not resemble the great weapon at all. Harry leaned over the rock to get a closer look at the sword, and he slipped when the fabric of his cloak got caught under his shoe that he had long since glamoured to resemble the footwear of the time. He reached out to stop his fall, and his hand grabbed on the hilt of the sword, causing it to move in its hole as Harry righted himself. Harry gaped at the sword that now barely sat in the small crevice of the rock. Oh fuck! Oh bloody hell. Oh bloody fuking hell! Harry swallowed thickly and tentatively reached up to touch the sword. He pulled on the hilt gently, and it once again moved another inch out from its home. Harry jerked his hand back and glanced guiltily around. The streets were still deserted and the guard snored on. Harry turned back to the sword and tugged it from the rock. Well, fuck. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He quickly slammed the sword back into the rock and tested it again. Once more it slid easily from its home. Well, fuck. He sure as hell wasn’t the future king of England, or Britain, or whatever the fuck they called this place now. And he couldn’t just let some random scrawny kid come along and pull the sword. He needed the _real_ Arthur to pull the sword, because only the real Arthur would have the real Merlin by his side, and Harry needed the real Merlin to help send him home. With another glance around, Harry pulled the Elder wand from his tunic and felt the familiar pull of his magic. In the two years since the wand had claimed him as its master he had learned how to channel its mighty power, mostly. His mind ran through spells and charms trying to figure out what to use to keep just anyone from pulling the sword. Coming up blank he growled in frustration and cast a sticking charm. He pulled at the hilt again and the sword clung to the rock. With a nod of satisfaction he turned and hurried back to inn. If he remembered correctly, Arthur hadn’t pulled the sword until the final day of the tournament. He had just over a week to find the right spell.

 

It didn’t matter. The words swirled in Harry’s mind as the rain poured over him. He stared numbly at the sword, still embedded in its masonic monument eight days later. Harry had found spells and charms that he had reworked to make sure no one but the true Arthur could pull the sword, and Sir William, the tournament champion, had failed in his attempt. It was amazing how quickly the city cleared out once the tournament was over and the winner had lost his chance at ruling the Isles. Still, Harry had stayed, waiting, hoping, looking for the small boy in the oversized tunic that would come to pull the sword so that a bright light from the heavens would shine down upon him, declaring him Ruler Over All, a wizened old Albus Dumbledore look-alike by his side.

“Merlin.” Harry’s head shot up, glancing around for said wise wizard but only seeing Ambrosius standing a few feet away. Oh, the man had been talking to him. Ambrosius made his way over to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He didn’t come.” Harry wasn’t sure if it was a question or not, but he shook his head anyways. “Come on then. Can’t let thee catch thy death in this weather. I have some stew. It will warm thee.” Harry let Ambrosius lead him back to his sparse room and sat at the table. A bowl of savory-smelling stew was placed in front of him, and Harry took a bite. The warm broth trickled through his system, and he smiled gratefully at Ambrosius who was already tucking heartily into his own stew.

“Did you sell all of thy grandfather’s wares?”

Ambrosius smiled warmly. “I did. The tournament is always a productive time of year.”

“So, the tournament only happens once a year?”

Ambrosius nodded and a concerned look crossed his face. “Merlin, dost thou even know when thine Arthur is to pull the sword?”

Harry shook his head. “No. The book- er, vision was unclear. Only that it was during the time of a tournament.”

“But that could be years from now,” Ambrosius pointed out helpfully, and Harry made a face. “Sorry.” They went back to their stew and ate silently for several minutes. “Merlin,” Ambrosius’s soft voice spoke again, “if it is a powerful wizard that thou seekest, perhaps the Druids of Sherwood could aid thee. They have trained many of the King’s personal magicians over the years. They might know this wizard thou seekest.”

Harry remembered Hermione mentioning the ancient Druid clans; their knowledge of earth magic was unmatched. “There are still Druid clans around?”

Ambrosius nodded. “The oldest is the clan of Sherwood. The forest is only a few days north of Grandfather’s farm. I could take thee.”

Harry studied the man across from him. “What about thine apprenticeship with the King’s Scholars?”

“They will still be there when I return. I might not get another chance to discover the knowledge thou holds.”

“You mean my books? You wish a chance to study my books in exchange for a ride to Sherwood?”

Ambrosius nodded vigorously and grinned. “Thou mayest read to me once more, kind Merlin.”

Harry thought about it as he ate the rest of his stew. It wasn’t as if he had anything to do but sit around and wait a whole year for the next tournament. And even if the Druids didn’t know of the true Merlin perhaps they would agree to help him learn. Assuming they weren’t anything like Snape when it came to teaching. The rush of anger at the memory of his one time professor did not appear as it usually did. In the many months since that fateful night Harry and Hermione had dissected Snape’s actions and the events leading up to it, he had spent many nights thinking of the man. With the knowledge that they had now, it had been Ron who had finally connected the dots. That Snape truly _was_ on the side of the Light, that Dumbledore had been dying; that, for some reason, Snape had agreed to protect Malfoy and cast the killing curse at Albus. An elaborate plan Harry had immediately scoffed at. Until the first historian had appeared at the gates of Hogwarts almost a year ago. The man, a muggle, could remember very little. He’d been accosted outside his home, taken to a large estate and given doses of some medicine or other. He’d been questioned about the legend of Merlin for hours, days, he didn’t know. Time had been irrelevant in that dark dungeon. A man in an eerie mask had asked most of the questions, a tall figure that kept to the shadows seemed to be the one calling the shots though. At last, the shadowy figure had spoken in a sibilant voice, calling an end to the questions. The Historian had been sure he was as good as dead by the way the leader spoke and a young man had stepped forward asking for the pleasure to prove his worth. He’d been dragged outside the mansion and into a wooded area where the young man had removed his own eerie mask. The historian had described the pale features, harsh grey eyes, and silver blonde hair of his would-be murderer. He realized then, as the half moon shone down on the wan features, that the man was little more than a boy. The man-child had then knelt down and pressed a small circular object into his hand and simply said, “Don’t worry. Potter will Obliviate you,” before the man had blacked out.

There had been silence among the small group gathered around the man’s bed as his words settled among them like ashes from a raging fire. The object, a coin, turned out to be a DA coin. How had Malfoy gotten ahold of a DA coin? Marietta Edgecombe, Hermione answered. How had he turned it into a portkey? Snape, McGonagall had volunteered. It was the only answer they could come up with. As former Headmaster, he would have been given that privilege during his reign, he would have also known that there was no way to portkey someone through Harry’s current wards, but he knew enough of the Order to know that the castle grounds would be kept under constant patrol and a body at the gate would quickly be found. More prisoners were portkeyed to the gate at such irregular intervals that there had eventually been a guard stationed there at all times to bring the refugees directly to Madame Pomfrey. The theory that it was Snape and Draco working together was not mentioned to anyone outside the room that day, the Order had learned to compartmentalize knowledge. Only the highest of the Order suspected the two Slytherins’ involvement, which seemed to be confirmed when rumor came that the younger Malfoy was moving up quickly in Voldemort’s ranks, becoming known as a merciless killer who left no trace of his victims. Of course he didn’t, Harry scoffed, all Draco’s “victims” were safely sequestered in the castle. With the influx of “visitors” came news and speculations of Voldemort’s movements. After the fourth Arthurian historian had appeared at their gates, it became apparent where Voldemort’s latest obsession lay. Hence the spell to summon Merlin’s spirit that Harry supposes he probably shouldn’t have tried alone.

Harry looked up at Ambrosius and nodded. “All right then. I will read and you wilt drive.” Ambrosius beamed at him.

 

Harry glanced around at the circle of robed men that had appeared. His eyes shot to Ambrosius, the brown-eyed man swallowed thickly and glanced pleadingly at Harry. A loud _caw_ made the squib jump, but Harry’s war-hewn instincts kept his body rigid.

“I beg of thee to release the other, Priests of Sherwood. ‘Twas I that sought thee out. He was merely a companion that followeth my directives.” There was a tense silence that even the birds and shadows seemed to respect.

“The squib will awaiteth thee on the edge of the forest,” one of the robed figures said. Harry was unsure which one it was, as their hoods were large enough to shadow their faces. Ambrosius was released and pushed from the circle of Druids. He stared nervously at Harry.

“Returnest to the tent, Ambrosius,” Harry told him, glad they had left the structure standing in case they had to spend another night in the forest. “If I have not returned in a sennight, leave.”

“Merlin,” Ambrosius said, questions filling his voice. Harry would be sad to see the man leave, he reminded Harry so much of Hermione.

“Go, Ambrosius.” The man swallowed, turned, and ran back towards the way they had come.

“Thy friend will be well, and thou shalt see him again.”

Harry turned at the soft voice to see a woman in a long, white robe standing before him. He wasn’t sure where she had come from as there had been no movement that he’d noticed. He dropped to his knee and bowed his head nevertheless, glad that one of the many books in Hermione’s bag had spoken of Druids. “Druidess.”

“We have been waiting for thee, wizard. Arise, and follow.”

Harry kept the surprise from his face and straightened as the priestess turned. Two of the Druids broke the circle, and a light appeared between the trees behind them. Harry watched in awe as the priestess stepped into the light and disappeared. He quickly followed and couldn’t stop the gasp of surprise as he stepped out into a large valley that hadn’t been there a moment ago. The bright sun shone down on the grassy valley and a large abbey stood off in the distance surrounded by small houses.

“Welcome to _Enez-Sun_ , or what is left of it. I am Alexandria of the Gallizenae, the virgin priestesses of Ile de Sein.”

“Oh,” Harry gasped, having read a bit about them in the book. “But I thought men weren’t-”

She turned bright green eyes on him. “Myths of old, young wizard. We left the Ile de Sein many years ago when Christianity began to overtake our sacred land. We have made a home here, and the Druids of Sherwood allow us to anchor our portal among their sacred trees. We share our knowledge with them,” she indicated the houses as they passed them, “and they live among us now. The houses thou seest are home to the Sherwood Druids and our married sisters. We are no longer merely a council of nine, but many, and we share our knowledge with those that seek us out.”

“Like me,” Harry said hopefully. She shot him a look that was so reminiscent of Hermione that a pang of longing shot through him.

“We would have sought thee out, young wizard, if thou had not shown thyself so quickly.”

Harry blinked at her. “What? Why?”

She indicated a large placid lake, its blue water reflecting the cloudless sky. “Our Seer, the Lady of Avalor foretold of thee many years ago.”

“The Lady in the Lake,” Harry whispered, remembering the tales.

“The Lady _of_ the Lake, young wizard. A mere sister with the gift of prophecy. She can no more reside in the water than thou or I. She lives in a cottage on the far side of the lake.” Harry noticed the small structure as heat suffused his face. “When thou disrupted our magic, we knew it was only a matter of time before thou didst show thyself.”

Harry swallowed guiltily. “I apologize, Lady Alexandria. I had no intention-” she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“As I said, it was expected. When thou removed the sword we knew it was only a matter of time.”

He turned to gape at her as they reached the abbey steps. “You were the one that enchanted the sword?”

She indicated the building in front of them. “The sisters and I. We had to ensure that the rightful king took the throne. Britain is in dangerous times and needs a great leader.” They stepped into the shadowed interior of the abbey, and Harry was impressed with the intricate stonework and vast size. “And that leader will need a great advisor by his side. An advisor that we have sworn to train.” She stopped and turned to face Harry. “And that is where thou becomest involved. Welcome to the Abbey of Gallizenae, oh Great Merlin.”


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sorry! In my defense, Monday was a holiday so I totally lost track of what day it was. You know, feel free to yell at me if I miss a posting-day. :)   
> Also, you're about to see why it took us so long to beta this. For all you history buffs out there, I realize the language is not exactly era-appropriate, but I wanted people to actually understand what was being said.  
> Don't forget to look for the Easter eggs (some are pretty easy to spot). I hope you enjoy.

Harry gaped at the woman standing in front of him. The edges of her white robe were stained a verdant green and her long golden tresses trailed behind her. She looked up at him with bright, violet eyes and smiled sweetly. 

“Welcome, Merlin. I trust thou hast settled in.”

Harry gulped, trying not to get lost in her purple eyes. “I’m sorry. I think there’s been some confusion.” He glanced around warily and leaned closer to the woman he had been directed to after Alexandria had fed him a small lunch. “I actually came here looking for Merlin,” he whispered guiltily. 

The woman gave a teasing smile and glanced around, copying his movements from a moment ago. “I know, Harry,” she said conspiratorially.

Harry jerked back in surprise. “You know? I mean, uh, this is...be… beknownst to thee?”

She chuckled. “I am a Seer. Come, we can speak freely in mine abode.”

She turned, and Harry watched almost hypnotically as her hair swung side to side. He mentally shook himself and followed her into the small cottage by the lake. Tea was already waiting on the small table, and they settled around it. “How do you know I’m the one you’re waiting for?” Harry asked once he had taken a sip of the warm beverage.

“Thou disrupted our magic on the sword.”

“When I pulled it out,” he said.

She shook her head. “Nay. When thou added thine own enchantments, Merlin- Tis thy name now, young wizard,” she cut off Harry’s protest.

“But I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t even really listening when Errol asked me my name. I’d just discovered I’d been thrust back over a thousand years. It was more of a curse than anything. I can’t be  _ that  _ Merlin. He was the greatest sorcerer that ever lived. Greater even than Albus Dumbledore,” Harry tried to explain in a rush of words.

“And yet, thou art he,” she said matter-of-factly.

“How?” he pleaded.

She sighed in a way that reminded him of McGonagall. “When is the last time thou held thy wand, young wizard?”

Harry pulled out the slim stick and showed it to her. He glanced down at the wand in his hand as it seemed to buzz against his skin. “What’s wrong with it?”

She chuckled. “Nothing, young Merlin. Thou art in a place of pure magic, and Elder wood is a great conductor of the wild magic that flows around us. Thou hast more magic in thee than thou  knowest . We will teach thee to harness and control thy magic and how to use thy new wand. Thy wish is to return for the next tournament. Wouldst thou give us until then to teach thee, young Merlin? Let us show thee what we can offer thee, and we will send thee back to thy friend in seven days. Thou mayst send  young Blaise  on his way to return in one year for thee. Or thou mayst leave with him.”

Harry studied the brown liquid in his cup and thought about the Seer’s words. Seven days to see if these people could turn him into the Great Merlin. The least he could do was see what they had to offer. He nodded to the Seer. “Seven days to convince me this is where I belong. All right, Lady Avalon. You, uh, thou have- hast- a deal.”

She beamed at him. “Excellent, young Merlin. Thou shalt not regret it.”

 

They woke him early the following morning with a breakfast tray brought to the small room he’d been assigned in the guest wing of the Abbey. He ate the toast and porridge with relish before joining Alexandria in the entrance hall. She smiled brightly at him.

“Good morn, Merlin. I trust thou slept well.”

He gave a nod of agreement. “Very much. Thank you.”

She nodded and held her hand out towards the front door. “I thought perchance thou wouldst enjoy a tour of the grounds.”

Harry nodded. “‘Twould be wonderful.”

He followed her back outside, and she led him around the back of the abbey to the extensive gardens. His eyes landed on a group of children running around the flower garden, their multi-colored robes flying around them. One boy chased the others with a wooden sword in one hand and a thin stick in the other. Two girls sat on a blanket spread beneath them, a tea set spread out between them and had dolls that actively participated in the tea party. 

“We encourage the children to use their magical abilities as much as possible. Of course, they shan’t receive wands until their tenth birthday, an exciting event for the entire community.” She went on to explain the daily lives of the inhabitants of this magical place. Their system for schooling the children, how everyone had a job to do. She pointed out the vast forest in the distance that provided a source of meat for them and spoke of the enchanted animals that also lived there: griffons, chimaeras, glumbumbles, and more. They returned to the abbey in time for a late tea, and Alexandria introduced him to some of the other sisters. One of the sisters, a woman with long black hair and piercing blue eyes, had a tendency to glare at him, and he vowed to stay out of her way; she reminded him too much of Snape. After tea, Alexandria showed him the abbey’s vast library, and Harry thought of Hermione and Ambrosius. Harry went to bed that night with a full mind  roiling with questions, and going over Alexandria’s introduction to her world .

The following day only did more to cement the decision he was already making in his mind. One of the other sisters, Cecilia with the bobbed, brunette curls and grey eyes that shone with an inner joy, took him to the abbey’s inner courtyard. It was a large, open space with a fountain in the middle, and a small girl sat on the edge of the fountain, a book in hand while a small puppy chewed on the hem of her dress. Across the courtyard were several doors that Cecilia indicated.

“The doors are entryways to other magical places where we can obtain the supplies we need that we do not produce here.” She indicated one door. “The sisterhood does not promote violence; but for those in need of weaponry, we have direct access to the goblin forges. Also, our primary wandmaker allows us to anchor a portal directly to his family’s current shop. There are other portals available depending on our needs.” They had made their way across the courtyard as she had spoken, and she stopped at a plain, wooden door and rested her hand on it. “We are quite excited about this one. The Lady of Avalon assures us that one day a great wizarding school will open, and we shall be allowed to send our children there to become great witches and wizards.” She looked at him expectantly, and Harry blinked back the rush of emotion as he reached a hand out to caress the door as if he could feel Hogwarts herself. He nodded.

“One of the greatest. A magical place for all of Britain’s magical children.” He heard a soft sigh and jerked his hand back in embarrassment. He glanced at Cecilia, and she smiled wistfully at him.

“It will be nice for the children.” She made a motion with her hand  urging Harry to walk with her , and they  the two of them  continued on around the courtyard. Harry noticed one of the boys from the day before leaning against a pillar staring out across the courtyard. “Good morn, Sal,” Cecilia said, startling the boy who couldn’t have been more than thirteen, a light blush spread across his pale cheeks.

“G-good morn, Lady Cecilia.” His dark eyes lit on Harry, and his mouth gaped open. Harry smiled politely at the boy.

“Good morn.”

“G-good m-morn, S-sir.” The boy watched them until he was out of sight, and Cecilia chuckled.

“It seems Sal has finally found something that can hold his attention longer than Rosalee.”

“Rosalee?” Harry questioned.

Cecilia nodded. “The young girl at the fountain. Sal has been half in love with her since she was born. She barely notices him though, given how obsessed she is with her books. ...as is the entire family , actually , though Rosalee’s sister is not as bad.” They stepped through a doorway to an open corridor. “This is where we produce our own goods.” She indicated the long row of shopfronts. “Bakery, smithy, textiles. Thou wilt need some robes if thou wilt abide with us. We operate on our own commerce system as the outside world is constantly changing its currency.” She went on to explain about the trade and barter system the small community used, and Harry listened with fascination. They had tea with several of the sisters, and, once again, Harry could feel the penetrating gaze of the dark-haired sister.

After tea, Cecilia left Harry to the library, and he spent a pleasant afternoon just looking at the books the abbey had to offer. He smothered a chuckle at what Hermione would say to that. He felt a pang of longing and became even more determined to find his way home. He visited Lady Avalon the following day and asked when he might return home. She gave him a comforting smile and simply said, “Years from now and in no time at all. The knowledge will come to thee.” Harry huffed, thinking about Trelawney and wondering if all Seers were so frustrating.

He was heading back to the abbey when he came across a group of children crossing the field and dragging brooms behind them. Harry felt a rush of elation; it had been years since he’d flown just  for the sake of flying. “Have you been flying?” He asked excitedly. The small group turned as one at his voice, and they stared at him. Harry’s eyes landed on Sal. “Is that your broom? I left my broom back home.”

The boy held the broom out. “W-wouldst thou like to borrow it, sir?” He asked almost shyly.

Harry beamed and took the broom from the boy. “Sal, right?”

The boy seemed to puff up at the other children’s gasps. “Yes, sir.” Sal was nudged from behind, “And these are my friends. Godric, Nimy, Marie, and Cristobal.” Harry nodded politely at the other children as Sal respectively indicated the boy that had been playing with the sword and wand that day in the garden, the two girls he thought must have been the ones at the tea party, and a boy he hadn’t seen yet. 

“Lovely to meet you,” Harry said, eyes on Sal’s broom. He turned to the boy. “May I?” The boy nodded, and Harry was soon soaring through the air. Merlin, it was just as invigorating as he remembered. He closed his eyes and let out a loud whoop as he soared, flipped, turned, and dipped. When he returned to the ground a half hour later, more than just the children had gathered to watch him. His face burned as he realized a small crowd had gathered. He handed the broom back to Sal with a muttered thanks, and they headed back to the abbey praising his skills and asking for lessons. Harry passed out from exhaustion that evening, his mind already made up.

He asked Alexandria the following day what he could expect as a student there and what was expected of him. They discussed a learning regimen that sounded like it might take longer than the allotted year to learn. When he mentioned this to Alexandria she gave a secretive smile and said it would all work out in the end. He wondered if she had a bit of the Seer in her as well. She explained how each of the sisters had a specialty, and he would spend time with each of them learning all they could teach him. He shivered at the thought of the dark-haired sister teaching him anything. He had the vague thought that she probably taught potions, and memories of angry glares and melted cauldrons flashed through his mind. Harry finally admitted to Alexandria that he did wish to stay and study, and she walked him to the portal that led them to Sherwood. 

“Tell thy friend to return in eleven months time to escort thee to the Tournament, young Merlin. We shall return and find thee suitable quarters for the duration of thy stay.”

Harry nodded and headed off in the direction of the tent, hoping Ambrosius hadn’t left yet. It was midday when he found the tent still in the place they had set it up.

“Ambrosius,” he called out for the man. The tent flap pushed open, and Ambrosius appeared looking the same as he had when Harry had sent him on his way. He gaped at Harry.

“Merlin. Why art thou back already?”

“Already,” Harry scoffed. “I was half afraid you had already left, Ambrosius.”

“Did you not go with the druidess then, Merlin?” Ambrosius asked, looking around as if the priestess would appear.

“What are you talking about, Ambrosius? I’ve spent the last several days with the Druidesses, seeing all they had to offer.”

Ambrosius shook his head. “No, Merlin. I only just left thee mere hours ago. I have not even partaken of dinner.”

Harry gaped at the man he had traveled with and looked around the camp, realizing it looked exactly the same as it had the morning they had set out to find the Druids of Sherwood. He immediately realized that time must move differently in Enez-Sun. He nodded. “Right. Of course. Magic. Listen, Ambrosius. I’m going to stay with the Druidesses until the next tournament. They have offered to help me… find the great wizard I seek. Canst thou return in eleven months to take me back to the tournament?”

Ambrosius nodded. “I would be happy to, Merlin.”

Harry beamed at the man. “Great. Um, thou mayst keep the tent for now.”

Ambrosius beamed at him. “Truly? How gracious thou art, kind Merlin. I vow to treat it well and return it to thee in its current condition in eleven months’ time.”

Harry nodded. “Good.” He stepped forward and held his hand out. “Thank thee, Ambrosius. Thou hast been a good friend.” Ambrosius took his hand eagerly. “I had best be returning. The priestess waitest for me.”

Ambrosius nodded. “I will see thee- oh, how will I know where to meet thee?”

Harry motioned behind him. “Just return to the spot we met the druids. They will send for me.”

Ambrosius nodded again. “Very well, Merlin. Fare thee well.”

Harry returned the sentiment and returned to the forest and Alexandria. “Hardly any time has passed here,” he said when he met back up with her.

She nodded sagely. “Time passes as we will it in Enez-Sun.” They stepped through the portal, and she indicated the abbey. “The children are a hundred years old, but thou hast known them only minutes. They will each step out into thy world when the time is correct. We have great plans for them. The children thou flew for the other day, the younger boy?” Harry nodded, remembering the tan-skinned boy Sal had introduced as Cristobal. “He will be a great explorer. Marie, the young girl with dark hair, is destined for the New World, but not for many centuries. We all have a place, young Merlin. The Lady of Avalon has decreed it, and we await our time. Our duty is to prepare them, and now we prepare thee.” She beamed at him as they reached the Abbey proper, and Harry felt a thrill race down his spine. Was it possible that he could truly be  _ that _ Merlin?

 

Harry was set up in his own hut and soon fell into a routine that reminded him of being back at Hogwarts. The dark-haired sister, Morgana he’d learned was her name, did not teach potions, surprisingly; she taught healing and was one the best healers in Britain. Cecilia taught him enchantments, and Alexandria focused on charms. There were classes on Transfiguration, Arithmancy, and Runes as well. The Herbology and Potions lessons were taught by a priestess and Druid collectively as was his Defensive and Protection class. It was mostly reading, which Harry found he didn’t mind so much as he had when he was younger. When he asked about practical application, Alexandria gave him an indulgent smile and said simply that it was not yet time.

Harry got his answer several weeks later when he was on his way back to his hut after dinner. He stepped outside the abbey and came to a halt when he saw Lady Avalon standing at the foot of the stairs. The Lady rarely left her own hut, so Harry and the others took notice at her lithe form standing there. She smiled up at the people spilling from the abbey and held her hand out.

“Merlin, join me.” There were gasps and murmurs as Harry swallowed thickly and made his way down the steps. He slipped his hand into hers and shivered at the warmth there. She turned and began walking. Harry walked beside her, casting questioning glances her way as they walked away from the abbey and small houses. Eventually, they reached the portal; she led him through and into Sherwood forest. They stepped out into an inky darkness, the trees blocking out what little moonlight was available. “It is thy day of birth, Merlin. I believe thou art in thy twentieth year now.” She motioned to the trees around them. “The great oaks of Britain have a gift for thee, Merlin.” She knelt down and swept her hand over the ground. Leaves piled up to form a sort of bed. She looked up at Harry and held her hand up. He took it, and she urged him down onto the ‘bed.’ “Wand in thy hand and lie down.” Harry gave her a curious look and obeyed, laying on his side as he pulled the Elder wand from his tunic. She guided his hand until the wand was on the ground at his side with his palm stretched out over it. “Sleep, young Merlin. Allowest the Great Oaks to whisper their secrets to thee and the earth magic giveth thee thy gift. I will watch over thee and awakest thee with the morning sun.”

Harry tried to watch her as she stood, but he found he couldn’t lift his head. He supposed he should begin to panic, but the soothing sound of the wind through the trees was fast lulling him to sleep. The white room was nothing like Kings Cross.  _ Because you have not died, Child. _ Harry looked for the voice, but the room was an empty whiteness. Harry wondered what he was supposed to do. Wait for Dumbledore or whichever guide was there to advise him? Or walk, seek his own council or some such Seer drivel? There was an echo of a soft chuckle, and he couldn’t make out if it was male or female.  _ Sit, Child, and learn that which you have sought to seek. Open your mind, your heart, and become that which you have made yourself. _ It was odd to hear the familiar cadence of his own time’s speech after so many months of  _ thee _ s and  _ thy _ s. He sat, crossing his legs in the age old position.  _ I’m ready _ , he thought in his head.

A soft hand on Harry’s shoulder had him fluttering his eyes open. Lady Avalon’s soft violet eyes looked down at him, and she spoke softly. “It is done, young Merlin. Sit up.”

He pushed himself up slowly; his head felt full and heavy on his shoulders. He clutched his wand in his hand and rubbed his thumb over the familiar grain. Only it wasn’t familiar. He glanced down to see a wand of light oak wood clutched in his hand. “My wand,” he gasped and opened his hand to reveal the entire length of wood.  The familiar white of the elder wood glared back at him from where his hand had clutched the wand, but even as he watched, the light oak moved to wrap itself around the newly exposed elder wood. Harry blinked at the transformation and looked up at the Lady. She smiled at him.

“A gift from the earth spirits. Oak is a strong conductor of earth magic. Dost thou feel the gift they have given thee? Here, so close to the magical ley lines, amidst the oaks of Sherwood, thou hast opened thy mind and heart to receivest thy true magic. Thou art truly the great and powerful Merlin now, young Harry.”

Harry swallowed and clutched his hand around the wand in his palm. He felt the hum of magic as it skittered across his skin and sang through his blood. He remembered snatches of his dream: the white room, the ambiguous, disembodied voice as it spoke of love and magic and gifts for one so worthy. Merlin, he could use a drink, brandy or whiskey, something strong. A cup appeared next to Harry, and he jerked back as the Lady let out a soft laugh.

“Ay, until thou learnest control, thy power is boundless in this world. Drink this...” she glanced down into the cup and wrinkled her nose, “...beverage and let us return to Enez-Sun. It is time thou learnest  to command thy full powers.”

Harry reached for the cup and took a sip of the smooth brandy. He rose to his feet. “Um, should I offer a gift in return?”

The Lady shook her head. “Use thy gifts for good, young Merlin. That is all the thanks they need.”

She stepped over to the portal, and Harry glanced around. He leaned over and placed the still-full cup at the head of the leaf cot. “Er, I offer my thanks anyways. I’ll do my best.” He followed the Lady back through the portal in time to see the sun rise over the abbey. 

Harry was amazed at how much more control over his newfound powers he had in Enez-Sun. He could feel them just below his skin, but simply wishing for a goblet of brandy did not produce said drink. He also found that his reading and understanding came much easier. The months flew by as he mastered spells, charms, transfiguration, and transformation. He really shouldn’t have been surprised to discover the first transformation form he took was a stag. What surprised him was how easily he could change from a stag to an owl to a snake and so forth. Yule came and went, and Harry missed his friends, but he found he didn’t think on them as much as he used to. In his heart he knew he would find a way home, so he studied and learned and practiced. In the evenings, when he wasn’t completely exhausted, he read through Hermione’s history books, specifically those that pertained to King Arthur and Merlin. Some of the stories seemed outrageous, and Harry felt that surely some of them must be simply made up.

One warm evening Harry sat by the lake after an evening tea visit with Lady Avalon. He was soaking up the last rays of the fading sun with a deep breath when he felt a presence settle beside him. He slowly opened his eyes and turned to face the piercing blue of Morgana’s. She had a familiar scowl on her face as she spread her sky blue robes out around her.

“I have always thought thou reminded me of mine old potions professor,” he told the priestess as he turned back to the lake. “For a bit, I feared thou mayst even  _ be  _ the potions teacher.” She snorted, and he had to bite back a laugh. “Thou no longer wearest the white of a priestess, Lady Morgana. Why hast thou stepped down?”

“Thou knowest not, Sir Merlin?”

“I do not claim to know it all, Lady Morgana. I truly am no Seer.” He turned to look at her, and she turned to face him.

“I was not prepared for thine arrival, wizard. It was foreseen long ago that I would leave Enez-Sun upon thy return.” He blinked at her.

“That is why thou didst glare so at me. Thou didst not wish to leave thy home.”

She nodded. “I apologize for mine offense, Sir Merlin.”

Harry laughed. “Thou art the first to apologize for thy dislike of me. Fear not, Lady Morgana, many have hated me over the years. It bothers me not any longer.” He turned back to the lake and watched the reflection of the first evening stars. “So, I shall return to Enez-Sun after the tournament. I will not find Arthur then,” he added sadly.

He saw a small lift of her shoulders from the corner of his eye. “I know not what will happen, Merlin. Perhaps thou shalt find thine Arthur as thou shalt not return to Enez-Sun for quite some time.”

Harry quickly turned to her. “Then why givest up thy robes?”

“It taketh many years to train a priestess, young Merlin. There are many young ladies ready to take up my mantle, but they have lessons yet to learn. Lessons only I may teach them if they seek to replace me.”

Harry bit at his bottom lip. “I’m truly am sorry thou must leavest thy home.”

She smiled weakly at him. “Sister Alexandria and Lady Avalon have helped me accept my fate. Perhaps when thou returnest I shall be ever more ready to embrace the life that awaiteth me outside the portal.”

Harry blinked at her. “Hast thou never been, then?” She shook her head, her dark hair flying around her soft face. He gave her a saucy smile. “Then perchance I shall invite thee to the king’s court. There are to be many fine knights at the king’s table.”

He saw her face take on a soft glow and chuckled. She glared softly at him. “I’ve no intentions of chasing after such brutish dolts.” Her blue eyes slid coyly towards him. “Though perchance that is thine own wish, hmm? The  _ true  _ reason thou seekest to join King Arthur’s court. The many fine knights of King Arthur’s table, a true feast for thine eyes.”

Harry felt his own face heat up and didn’t mind so much at the sound of Morgana’s soft laughter. “How didst thou know?”

“Thou dost never watch the younger of the women. It is rare that a wizard’s eye doth not stray to their soft curves.”

“I could argue that I have been intent on my studies,” Harry said halfheartedly as he drew his wand and ran his fingers over the now familiar oak. Morgana laughed.

“That thou couldst, young Merlin. But I have seen thee fly, and shouldst thou turn thy smile upon a fair witch after thy flight, she would swoon in ecstasy. No. Thou wouldst prefer to turn thy smile upon the baker’s son.”

Harry felt his face burn as he dragged his wand over the grass. Red poppies flared to life in its wake. “He… um, he is quite proficient on a broom. I… admire his skill.” Morgana’s deep laughter floated across the lake.

“Stick with thy knights, sir Merlin. Baker’s sons are for the girls.” Harry nodded. He knew the other young man was straight; still, he was quite a sight to behold. Morgana moved beside him, pulling herself to her feet. She patted him on the shoulder. “Best to get some rest, Merlin. Tomorrow will be a busy day, I believe.”

She hadn’t been wrong. Harry woke up to the news that all classes had been cancelled for the day, so Sal and Cristobal cornered him after breakfast to see if he would go flying. The three spent the morning practicing loops and dives, leaving Harry feeling refreshed and in high spirits. The three were returning to the abbey when they saw Lady Alexandria and several druids coming their way. Sal and Cristobal stepped to the side, knowing the small group was coming for Harry and not them. Harry greeted them with a deep bow.

“Lady Alexandria. Brothers.”

“Good day, Merlin,” Alexandria spoke for the small contingency. “There was a small disturbance this morn in Sherwood forest. It is time.”

Harry felt his throat constrict. He wasn’t ready to leave another home. He had come to care for these people. They had helped him grow, to become the person he was now. He felt a soft touch and looked down to see Alexandria’s hand on his arm. He looked up at her.

“Thou wilt ever be welcome in Enez-Sun, young Merlin. The Lady of Avalon hath beseeched me to remind thee: bringest the sword to her for a blessing when the time cometh.” Harry nodded, though he had no idea what the Seer meant. He followed the small group back towards the abbey, stopping by his hut to gather his still few belongings, stuffing books and scrolls into Hermione’s bag. They reached the abbey and his throat closed with emotion when he saw all the people gathered to bid him farewell. He bestowed a kiss to each of the priestesses and paused when he came to lady Morgana.

“I will miss Enez-Sun, but I shall take my time in returning for thy sake. Tis not easy to leave one’s home,” he said softly against her cheek.

She pushed him away with a gentle shove. “Go. Go find thine Arthur and admire his knights.” She had a soft smile on her face, and Harry chuckled.

Having said his goodbyes, Harry followed Alexandria and the druids to the portal. He followed Alexandria through and they stepped out into the warm evening air. Harry barely recognized the scruffy-faced man standing in the small clearing, surrounded by a circle of Druids.

“Ambrosius?”

The man turned to him and a wide smile broke out on his face as his brown eyes twinkled with glee. “Oh. Merlin!”


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to fall into place for Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay. I remembered! (Also, the reminders helped) :)

They spent the evening in the tent, and Harry was pleased to see that Ambrosius had taken excellent care of his borrowed accommodations. Ambrosius explained how he had returned home and had spent another six months with the King’s scholars before deciding that he preferred the life of a traveler. He had taken up with a traveling bard who had been teaching him the ways of “barding.” Harry listened intently to Ambrosius’s tales as they made their way to Errol’s farm. Harry chuckled at Ambrosius’s attempts to elaborate on his travels, and Harry gave him tips on how to make it more believable. They rested for several days at Errol’s farm before loading up  the man’s wares. Errol watched Harry intently during their stay, and Harry wasn’t surprised when the old wizard pulled him aside as Ambrosius readied the cattle.

“Merlin. Thy wand is not all that hath changed.”

Harry felt his face heat up. “The earth spirits have seen fit to reveal my full powers,” he admitted. The man’s eyes widened in surprise.

“An honor indeed, young Merlin.” The wizard gave a small bow. “Good luck in thine adventures, Merlin.”

“Thank thee, Errol. Once again, I appreciate thy hospitality.”

A twinkle entered the man’s soft green eyes. “A simple thanks will suffice this time, friend.”

Once again, Harry’s face heated in embarrassment.

As they set out on the last leg of their journey towards the tournament, Ambrosius finally pulled the story of Harry’s last year from him. Harry spoke of the vast library, the beautiful Lady Avalon, the children he had befriended, and the lessons the priestesses had given him. Harry found that, even after all his training, wandless magic still came easy to him back in this world. Ambrosius laughed when Harry found himself tripping over cups of mead one morning, he gaped in awe the first time Harry changed into an owl and flew beside the carriage, and he was delighted when Harry produced their nightly meals with little trouble or thought.

Ambrosius had given up his small room when he’d joined the troubadour, so they set Harry’s tent up with the others near the tournament grounds. The following morning, only a day before the tournament was set to begin, Harry helped Ambrosius set up his stall before heading into town. He made his way to the small wizarding pub and stepped through to the familiar sight. The wizarding street had changed very little, though Harry did note the addition of a new wand shop and a sweets shop. He stopped by Gringott's, and the old goblin gave him a small nod as Harry exchanged some of his wizard money for muggle currency.

“Mr. Ollivander’s industry doth seem prosperous,” Gringott said as he counted out Harry’s money, adding a few more gold coins than necessary.

Harry nodded, pretending not to notice the discrepancy. “I noticed t’was a new sweet shop down the way.”

The goblin nodded as he added another silver coin to the growing pile. “Mr. Hershey has been hinting about the place. I think he meaneth to inquire about a loan.”

“I have sampled their wares,” Harry told the half-truth. “He would do better to tempt the muggles with his confections.”

The goblin added another silver to Harry’s pile. “Good day, Mr. Merlin. We thank thee for thy patronage.”

Harry nodded and swept the coins into his pouch. “Good day, kind sir.”

Harry turned and headed back out towards the muggle streets. He stepped out into the open air and decided to make his way over to the courtyard. As it had been the year before, the courtyard was filled with spectators vying for a peak at the stone and sword. There was no need for Harry to get closer to the stone than the edge of the crowd. He could see the magic of the enchantments surrounding the tempered metal: the bright white of the Druidesses’ spells with a soft overlay of blue that he thought must be his own added spells. He was pleased to see that it still held after this last year. He thought Hermione might be proud of him; the thought did not pain him as it once had. Harry turned away and ran into a hard body with a soft “Oomph.”

Harry grabbed at the other person. “So sorry. I do apologize.”

“No, no,” a gruff voice assured him, and Harry looked up to see a man about his age with bright auburn hair and blue eyes. Harry had to blink at the vivid reminder of Ron. “My fault entirely. Wasn’t watching where I was going. Art thou unharmed?”

Harry nodded. “I am passable, kind stranger. Worry thee not.” Harry smiled at the man. “Art thou here for the tournament?”

The man gave a gruff laugh that reminded Harry of Ron once more. “Are not we all?”

Harry bowed his head in concurrence. “I wish thee and thine the best of luck, then.”

The man smiled with a nod. “The sentiment is returned.” Harry didn’t bother to correct him as the man walked off. 

Harry returned to Ambrosius and the tent where he agreed to help mind the stall the following day, the first day of the tournament. During his travels, Ambrosius had come across a simple recipe for a light ale, and they were anxious to try it with some of Errol’s extra crop. They woke early to set up Errol’s wares, and by midday, Harry was ready for a break.

“Hello there, kind stranger. I hope thine endeavors have been more fruitful than mine own.”

Harry looked up to find himself once again face to face with the Ron look-alike. He couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips. “We have indeed been successful. Didst thou fall from thy horse, stranger?” Harry teased, and the man laughed.

“No. I am merely a squire, and my knight does not ride until tomorrow. But he is bluedevilled due to his lady love’s interest in another.”

“Ah,” Harry said sympathetically. “Perhaps a bit of apple brew to help aide in his journey to forgetfulness.”

The man laughed. “Quite the salesman thou art. I will pass on his behalf as he hath been at the local pub since nearly noon. Though I would not pass up a taste of this apple brew.”

Harry turned and grabbed a tankard, placing it under the spout of the keg and pulling the tap. He inhaled the familiar aroma of the sour apple brew as he closed the tap. He turned around and exchanged the tankard for a coin and the man guzzled it down.

“Fine ale,” he complimented as he slammed the empty tankard back down. “Didst thou brew it thyself?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I am merely the vendor. ‘Tis a family recipe that my friend sells for his grandfather,” Harry lied, sticking to the story they had concocted in the hopes to sell more on the grounds of family loyalties and traditions.

The man eyed him. “And dost thy friend, perchance, retaineth the ability to brew such fine ale? Or is it merely his grandfather?”

“I believe he hath the knowledge,” Harry said evasively.

“Hmm. Mine knight might appreciate such a brewer. We travel extensively following the tournaments and often find ourselves in need of refreshment. Perchance I shall speak to my knight on this. He is of the mind that a larger coterie meaneth a greater knight.”

Harry laughed. “Then allow me to offer my services as his private magician. And if thy knight hath no need of a brewer, my friend aspireth to be a troubadour.” Harry thought it might be premature to make such plans, not knowing if Arthur would appear for the sword this year or not. But, he figured it didn’t hurt to have a backup plan in case he needed to waste another year. Also, traveling with a knight that made the tournament circuit might put Harry in contact with Arthur all that much sooner.

The man’s eyes went up. “A magician? And one not yet snatched up by the noble families of Britain? What a rare treat indeed.”

Harry beamed at the man. “I have loftier goals than a mere family of nobility,” Harry said coyly.

The man guffawed. “What? Art thou waiting for the king?”

“Ay,” Harry said bluntly. “I will offer my services to the future king when he hath been found.”

The man blinked at him. “And thou thinkest thou art powerful enough to serve such a lofty personage?”

Harry shrugged. “We shall see how powerful I am when the time cometh.”

The man shook his head. “Such confidence. And until then, thou wilt deign to grace us lowly ones with thy parlor tricks?” the man said with a soft laugh.

Harry slid his hand over the empty tankard, and he and the squire watched it fill with more apple brew. “Ay. If thee and thy knight so wisheth.”

The squire picked up the tankard and sniffed at the brew. Satisfied it smelled right he tossed it back. The man once again placed the tankard on the stall ledge with a sigh. “I shall speak to my knight about adding thee and thy friend, and his ale, to our camp. Assuming thou dost not find the king before then.”

Harry laughed and held out his hand. “I look forward to it. I am Merlin.”

The man grasped his hand. “Arthur Pendragon. My knight, Sir Kay, will no doubt enjoy the novelty of a brewer bard and his own flighty magician.”

Harry let the man pump his hand as he tried to jumpstart his mind. He held back the laughter that threatened to burst from his lungs, Snape’s near-forgotten voice echoed in the back of his mind.  _ Once again, Mr. Potter you astound me with your ability to consistently rely on sheer luck.  _ He bit back a snort. Well, he supposed it was true. Arthur was gone with the promise to return later before Harry could process what had truly happened.

Harry had to consciously make the decision not to seek Arthur out and encourage him to have a go at the sword. Some things he had to leave to fate. The important thing was that he had found Arthur, the future king of England.

 

Ambrosius had been excited to learn that he would be joining a knight’s court, and Harry took an afternoon to create a small greenhouse in the wizarding tent where they could grow the apples they would need for the brew. He added a few other fruits as well and added a quick-grow so the fruit would be ready to harvest by the time they made their first stop. Arthur returned the following evening with a large blonde man who proudly sported colors of red and gold. Harry, of course, liked him immediately. Having just come from a hearty win, he was ecstatic to accept the two newcomers to his coterie, and the quartet celebrated with warm apple brew. 

Sir Kay did not win the tournament, the tournament winner did not succeed in pulling the sword from the stone, and Arthur did not go near the courtyard after that initial meeting. Harry did not press the matter. He knew it would happen. He also knew, from what he could glean from the vague literature he had read, that he was stuck here for a number of years. Like Morgana, he had come to accept his fate. If he truly were the great and powerful Merlin of legend, then he was going to be the best Merlin he could be. And he  _ would  _ find a way home. 

After the Great Tournament, as Harry learned the yearly event was called, there were no other tournaments for more than a month, so they returned to Sir Kay’s estate for a rest. Rest apparently included lots and lots of exercise. Harry watched Kay, Arthur, and several of Kay’s men spar each day until Arthur finally called him out one morning. Harry thought it might not be such a bad idea to learn a bit of melee fighting--there was no telling what Voldemort would try when Harry returned. So Harry spent morning after morning training with the group while Ambrosius sat on the side, spinning stories of Brave Sir Kay and his squire, Arthur. Harry had to laugh, finally understanding where some of the more outrageous stories of Merlin might have come from. A month after their arrival, they packed up and headed to their next tournament. Harry continued the training with Kay and Arthur when they reached the tournament grounds, and Ambrosius set out to brew the apple ale that Kay had come to enjoy. Many of the other knights remembered Ambrosius’s brew from the Great Tournament, and the man was able to make a tidy profit. In the evening, Ambrosius sang them ballads of the great Kay’s deeds, and, occasionally, Harry would entertain them with small acts of magic.

Harry soon learned why Arthur had been made Sir Kay’s squire. Like Ron, the younger man had a tactical mind. Many of the tournaments had melee free-for-all battles, and Arthur spent hours studying the other knights’ weaknesses in order to advise Kay. More often than not, the knight would end up victor or one of the last to “fall.” Harry quickly came to respect the man’s battle mind and had fewer and fewer misgivings about the man being the ruler of Britain.

The fourth month into their journey, they attended a tournament held by the Duke of Cornwall, and Harry stumbled onto Arthur sitting comfortably beside a woman with long flowing red hair and pale skin. She fluttered her thick lashes up at the squire, and Harry felt entirely uncomfortable when Arthur ducked his head for a gentle kiss. Harry backed out of the garden quietly and went to find Ambrosius. Harry later learned the woman was the duke’s ward, Lady Guinevere, and thought he should have known that. But, really, in all the reading of King Arthur that Harry had done, the tales had been so convoluted and full of discrepancies that he had long relegated the majority of the tales to the back of his mind.

Sir Kay won the tournament and they moved on. The weather grew colder and they headed inland, away from the cold sea air. The last tournament landed them in Warwick, so Harry and Ambrosius headed to Errol’s farm for a few days before heading back to Kay’s estate. Errol was ecstatic to see the income from Ambrosius and Harry’s new endeavors and spoke of taking on a hired hand. Harry dropped another ruby into the man’s jar just before they slipped out. Winter at Kay’s estate was much the same as the previous interim, though as the weather turned cold, the exercises were turned indoors and the barely-used ballroom was quickly turned into a training ground. Harry notched up the warmth and licked his lips greedily as several of the men-at-arms removed outer clothing. He was caught out by one particularly handsome bloke, and the guard cornered him later that evening, proving just how well the guard had Harry’s back. Harry returned the favor the following night with equal fervor. The guard screamed his approval again and again.

Yule arrived with all the fanfare it deserved along with plenty of nog, cider, and wassail. Having sneaked away from the latest celebratory feast, Harry, Ambrosius, and Arthur gathered in Arthur’s outer chamber with plenty to drink. The three men had become close over the last several months, and Harry did not fail to miss the fact that he had now found a new Ron and Hermione. The three men drank until past the point where they should have stopped. Arthur admitted his growing affection for the Duke of Cornwall’s ward, and Ambrosius admitted he much preferred writing his own facts rather than reading other’s interpretations. Harry scoffed and tossed back another tankard of… something.

“Kay shays thersh drag’ns in Wales,” Arthur mumbled from where he was slouched down in his chair. “Big, green, beashts with arwful roars. Bad. Dangruss.”

“Pfft,” Harry said as he tipped his tankard back only to realize it was empty. “The Welsh green aren’t dangruss. Leave ‘em be.” He waved a finger at Arthur. “Iss the Hungrian Horntail that gee have to watch out for. Theys the onesh that like humans.”

Ambrosius leaned so far forward in his chair Harry wondered if he should get his wand ready to catch the man when he fell. Harry wondered where his wand was. “Hast thou fought a dragon, Merlin?”

Harry nodded his head then stopped when he was afraid it might fall off. “Onesh… no, twishe. Well, the second one was tamed; we needed a ride.”

“And why didst thou fight a dragon, oh mighty Merlin?” Arthur inquired, enunciating his words.

“For ish golden egg,” Harry replied as he shoved his tankard at Arthur who had reached for the bottle of whatever they were drinking.

“Ah, and where is thish golden egg?” Arthur looked at the alcohol sloshing out of Harry’s tankard, and Harry waved his hand as the alcohol jumped back into the vessel.

“Had to open it for the mermaids, didn’t I?” he said as the cup floated over to him. The others nodded, agreeing that this had probably been for the best, and they lapsed into silence. The following morning Harry wondered if Snape had ever invented a hangover potion and decided he probably didn’t have the time or energy to wait to find out, so he invented his own.

That night seemed to be a turning point in the three men’s friendship. While Harry freely admitted to admiring the other two for many of the same traits he admired in Ron and Hermione, he had never spoken much about his own past. The allusion to the Triwizard Tournament during their drunken night seemed to give the other two tacit permission to delve further into Harry’s past/future. For Harry, it was a mental task equal to any of those set forth in his fourth year tournament. He didn’t have to put his adventures in terminology that the two muggles would understand since they were fully aware of his magical status, but he did have to be careful not to make some sort of anachronistic slip. They would, for starters, not understand what a ‘bus’ was, and while they might accept ‘a large metallic object that could fly’ (magic after all), they had no clue what a ‘car’ was. So Harry tried to limit his stories to things that had occurred at the immutable Hogwarts. Ambrosius laughed at the idea of Harry and his friend changing to look like someone else to sneak into castle dungeons and quickly began to write his own version of the events. Arthur was enraptured at the story of taming a snake and then subsequently defeating a Basilisk with a magical sword. Somehow Hermione’s time-turner became Harry’s despite his numerous attempts to convince his new friends that he had only used it once. Both men listened, enraptured by the tales of beautiful Veelas that made a man clamber for their smallest sign of affection and friendly giants that raised baby dragons. Occasionally tales of his battles would slip out, and it was during one of these discussions that his two friends learned of his brush with death and the resulting scar. At Ambrosius’s “I had always wondered where that came from,” Harry realized he might have a problem on his hands. There had never been any mention of Merlin with a lightning bolt shaped scar. When he mentioned the silver stag that fought off Soul Eaters (it was the first thing he could think of to accurately represent the Dementors) they demanded to see the apparition. Harry regaled them with tales of Peeves and his ghostly counterparts of the castle where Harry had spent six years of his life. Ambrosius had asked about Harry’s childhood once, but his evasive answers and withdrawn demeanor halted more inquiries along those lines. They came across a Gypsy caravan in their travels, and when Ambrosius jokingly mentioned going to see the fortune teller, Harry scoffed and said he’d had enough of Seers and prophecies, and they were almost as bad and unclear as Centaurs, but at least some Centaurs offered rides out of dark forests, thank you very much. Arthur wanted to know when Harry had ever come across a Centaur, and Harry replied it had been while he was searching for a wounded unicorn. Harry sometimes wondered if Arthur actually believed Harry’s tales or if he thought Harry was as fanciful as Ambrosius could be.

The weather began to warm, and they packed up to head to the next tournament. Harry gave the guard a memorable goodbye, and the small group was off. They were back to sparring outdoors, and Harry was glad they had kept the routine up. He could tell some of the other knights and squires had not kept to their training schedules, allowing the cold to send them indoors and soften their muscles. It wasn’t until Harry heard talk about the upcoming Great Tournament that he recalled the possible changes they might soon be going through. He knew it was just as likely that this was the year Arthur pulled the sword as it wasn’t.

They arrived at the tournament grounds, and Harry and Ambrosius set up their tent next to Sir Kay’s and Arthur’s. They set to brewing while the others spent the time sparring. Harry used his magic to keep things moving faster than he and Ambrosius could have done together; soon they had several kegs of the brew ready to sell. Harry had by no means let his magical studies lapse during the last year. One of the things Cecilia had focused on was the creation of spells and enchantments, and Harry had found it beneficial to keep a journal as he attempted to create his own spells. After the Yule episode, he had also begun to keep a journal of experimental potions, though he refused to place any sentimental reason to that. He had also continued working on his transformations, attempting to alter his human form rather than an Animagi change. He was delighted the first time he succeeded in altering his hair to the familiar Tonks-pink that he recalled. Outside of Ambrosius and Arthur, no other person was aware of Harry’s accomplishments. Only a few months ago, Arthur had conceded that Harry just might make it as the King’s magician, when they found the man. Harry had held back a wince and set to studying the actions of past kings, well, past kings according to Hermione’s history books. If he was to be Arthur’s advisor, as the “history” books claimed, he should at least have an idea of what was considered kingly. He put away the biography of Henry Tudor, thinking  _ that _ was no way a king should act, and moved on to Queen Elizabeth. He thought she might be a good role model, advisors were always good. Even in the Order, he rarely made unanimous decisions.  _ Because this is what happens when you do, Potter, _ Snape’s voice echoed in his mind. He pushed the man from his thoughts and moved on to the French kings. Well, that wasn’t helpful. 

The tournament was as raucous as it had been in previous years, but at least this year Ambrosius was making a tidy sum. Most of the knights remembered his brew from the other tournaments, and many evenings found Harry passing out tankards as Ambrosius replayed the day’s events for the growing crowd. The nights were therefore spent in laughter and drink, and Harry made sure to provide his hangover potion to Sir Kay and Arthur each morning. Midway through the tournament, Harry left Arthur to help Ambrosius and made his way to the now familiar wizarding inn. He stepped through the door and noted the new shops on his way to Gringott’s. He deposited part of his income from the sells of the apple brew since Ambrosius insisted that part of the revenue was his since it was his magic that grew the apples. Harry stopped trying to argue and took the money. Harry checked the enchantments on the sword before making his way back to Ambrosius.

The winner of the tournament did not pull the sword from the stone. But he did invite his fellow knights to stay an extra few days for his marriage to his lady love. Some stayed, though a few did leave; once again, Harry, Arthur, and Ambrosius found themselves imbibing a bit too much celebratory drink on the night of the wedding. They stumbled from the stuffy pub and leaned against each other as they laughed through a bawdy tune. They made their way down the streets and somehow ended up at the courtyard. A single guard stood on duty and eyed them warily as they made their way to the stone. The trio stopped to stare at the rusty sword. Arthur was the first to speak.

“There thou art, Merlin. Thy future awaits. Where is thy king, Merlin?” Arthur asked without rancour. “Will he saveth us from these rumors of invading forces? Didst thou knowest they want to change Britain?” Harry was torn between urging the man to try the sword and pulling him away. “Dost thou suppose t’will be one of the invaders?” Arthur growled deep in his throat. “No foreigner should rule Britain. They do not deserve the right to touch such a beautiful weapon.”

“Beautiful?” Harry scoffed, eyeing the weather-beaten sword. “Thou must be daft. ‘Tis old and rusted from years of exposure to the weather. Not even a proper fighting sword. That thing would not hold its own in a children’s tournament.”

“A little polish and sharpening,” Arthur said as he reached a hand towards the implement. Harry’s drink-fuddled mind had yet to make the connection. 

“Rusted through and through,” He snorted. “One touch to the grindstone and 'tis ashes. Go on, have a look.”

“I think I will.” The words were almost a whisper, and they didn’t register to Harry until the brawny redhead stepped towards the stone and reached a hand out. Even as Arthur’s hand slipped through the wards and enchantments, Harry fancied he could almost hear a soft humming sound.

“Arthur,” Harry almost squeaked. “Arthur, art thou sure?”

“Sure about what, Merlin?” Arthur asked as he turned at the wizard’s words. He let out a sharp hiss, and Harry watched as a drop of blood slid down the grey blade. Watched as it slid into the small crevice, bringing down the wards and enchantments. Harry let out a sigh.

“Take the sword, Arthur,” Harry said dully.

Arthur looked at him oddly. “What? Merlin, what dost thou meanest?”

“Oi. What are you blokes doing?.” Harry glanced back at the guard that had finally decided to pay attention to them. He was heading their way, and Harry turned back to Arthur.

“Quick, Arthur. Thou must take the sword before he gets here. ‘ Tis thine. ‘ T was always thine.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, a note of question in his voice.

Harry turned back to check on the guard’s position and noticed the growing crowd. He turned back to Arthur. “I promise thee, thou wilt not be alone, Arthur. Take the bloody sword,” he hissed. Without another sound Arthur reached out, wrapped his hand around the hilt, and pulled. Harry watched as Arthur held the sword in front of him, admiring the steel. The rust seemed to flake from the sword as if an invisible rag were being wiped down its blade, and the bright moonlight glinted off the newly gleaming blade.

“My King.” Harry jerked his head to see Ambrosius fall to one knee, head bowed. There was movement behind him, and Harry and Arthur looked to see the others that had gathered around drop to their knees with murmurs of “My king.”

Arthur glanced at Harry, and he gave a weak shrug. “I promise I had no knowledge of thy fate when first we met.”

“But thou realized at some point?”

Harry nodded. “It was fated, Arthur Pendragon. I did struggle with whether to tell thee or no, but  we are both here at the whimsy of the fates.” Harry dropped to his knee and bowed his head, “My king.”

Harry heard the sword clink against the stone before Arthur let out an apologetic sigh. “Oh, Merlin.” 


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more of the Arthurian legends and an appearance by Hermione's favorite book.

Harry lost count of how many times they replaced the sword with Arthur drawing it out again and again. The first time they had replaced the sword and brought out the tournament winner to try and draw the sword, Harry had held his breath. But as the man pulled and tugged and the sword still held fast, Harry saw the same white and blue shimmers of magic surround it once more. And when Arthur placed his hand on the hilt, once more a soft red glow enveloped the magic, and Harry understood as his mind’s eye once again saw the slow slide of blood down the blade. Blood magic. 

It was during the initial to-do that Harry began making his slow physical transformation. From his studies he knew he would have to change his appearance. Not only was there the scar to contend with, but there was no way the current council would allow Arthur to have a mere boy as his advisor. Harry would need to appear older, wiser, and possibly show a great display of magic in order for them to accept him as Arthur’s advisor. And there was no way Harry was going to leave his friend at the mercy of these politicians. He caught Arthur’s eye and made sure the man was watching as Harry’s hair grew and turned a dark grey. Arthur gave a small nod, and Harry slipped to the back of the crowd. Ambrosius caught up to Harry as he slipped into the shadows.

“Merlin, what art thou doing? We cannot abandon Arthur. Not after thou hast done this.”

Harry glared at his friend. “This was not my doing, Ambrosius.” Harry reached down to untie Hermione's bag he kept tied to his belt these days. “This was fated. Hold this.” He shoved the bag at Ambrosius as he shook out the bundle of fabric he had pulled from it.

“But thou hast known this would happen.”

Harry pulled the dark blue robe over his head. “Ay, I did. But I will swear I was unaware that Arthur was the one I sought when I agreed to join him last year.” He shook out the robe and let it fall gracefully over him. He grabbed the bag back from Ambrosius and pulled out two thick tomes with the words ‘Spells’ and ‘Potions’ written boldly on the spines. He shoved the books at Ambrosius. “Stay at the back of the crowd until I say otherwise. When I call thee forth, remember: thou art a scholar to the greatest wizard alive. Ignore the whispers and focus on Arthur.” Ambrosius nodded as Harry pulled his wand out and drew a circle on the wall of the building next to them. A silent spell and a mirror shimmered to life. He lengthened his hair a bit more, charmed a ribbon to tie it back, checked to make sure his scar was hidden, watched his green eyes turn a bright blue, added a long beard and charmed his glasses to invisibility. He eyed his new look. “Bloody hell, I look like Albus.” He tapped the mirror with a  _ finite _ and pushed Hermione’s bag into the pocket of his robe. He clapped Ambrosius on the shoulder and smiled at him. “Let’s go make history. Go wait for me at the edge of the crowd and try not to appear shocked when I appear out of thin air.”

Ambrosius nodded numbly and slipped from the shadows. Harry watched him go and took a breath. “Once more unto the breach, dear friend,” Harry mumbled to himself. “Make Gryffindor proud.” Harry gave a small shake of his head and turned on his heels, hoping he didn’t splinch himself.

He landed beside a startled Arthur and looked out at the gaping crowd. He beamed his brightest Gryffindor smile. “Is this all for me then? Really ye should not have. I merely came to greet the new king.” He turned to Arthur and gave a deep bow. “Arthur Pendragon, the one and true King of Britain.” He was thankful to see his friend had recovered so quickly. “I, the great and powerful Merlin, have come to offer my services as advisor to thee.”

A man stepped forward and glared at Harry. “We have no need of such parlor tricks, charlatan. I was the previous king’s advisor and will advise the new king.” Harry smirked at the man as his eyes widened as he realized that he had just publicly announced the castle’s acceptance of Arthur as the new king.

“And what wilt thou advise the new king to do, stranger? Sit back and allow thee and thine to continue running the country as thou hast these past many years?  Wilt thou send out the call for troops to defend against the rising invasion?” A murmur swept through the crowd, and the man spluttered. “Wilst thou protect the great people of Britain from their unknown enemy?’

“Enough, Merlin,” Arthur said sternly, and Harry was proud to see his friend accepting his fate and new role. “I will prove my worth to my people. I will lead them and protect them.”

“Excellent,” Harry said, standing up and turning towards the crowds. “My assistant and I will accompany thee to thy new abode.” Harry held his hand out, and several people felt the sudden need to move back and create a path. “Come, Ambrosius. We shall rest our weary feet.” Harry could see the smile tugging at Ambrosius’s lips as he walked through the parted crowds, listening to the murmured whispers.

“He used to be a King’s scholar.” “Heard he left to become a bard.” “How did he meet the wizard?” “Is that a book of spells?”

Ambrosius reached them and dropped to one knee. “My King.”

“Rise, Ambrosius, and join us.” Arthur looked up as if searching for someone in the crowd. “Sir Kay, mine own brother, join me.”

Harry looked up to see a gaping Sir Kay make his way through the parting crowd. Kay dropped to one knee with a slow shake of his head. “My king. My brother. What hast thou done now, Arthur?”

Arthur chuckled. “Rise and swear thy fealty.” 

Kay rose to his feet. “As if I would serve another, brother. My sword is thy sword.”

Arthur gave a curt nod and looked around at the people gathered in the courtyard. He moved over to the Stone and slammed the sword back into the rock with a reverberating clang and his voice carried out across the courtyard and the crowd beyond. Harry refused to admit if he had cast a silent  _ Sonorous _ to aide his friend. “The earth and God have chosen me to lead the people of Britain. If any thinks they can do better, there is the sword.” He turned and stormed through the courtyard and in through the front of the castle doors, Harry and the others following.

It took several months for Arthur to get fully established as the new King Apparent. Lords from across the land came to greet their new king, and knights vied for the chance to serve Arthur. Harry learned quickly that, when given the chance, Arthur could be a formidable leader; he had no qualms about accepting or asking for advice. Harry thought this went a long way towards appeasing those that had been running the country for so long. 

During the Yule celebration, Arthur opened his doors for some of the higher nobles to join him for the celebrations. One evening while festivities were underway, Arthur and several others were gathered in the dining hall indulging in heavy drinking after the ladies had retired when a fight broke out as several of the noblemen tried to claim the seat closest to Harry and Ambrosius, who each took a seat on either side of Arthur. It had been the same, night after night, as each man wished to be able to converse with the king.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Harry said in frustration, and with a wave of his wand, the table grew and curved, dragging its inhabitants with it until they were seated in a circle. “There. Now everyone can see the bloody king, and it’ll grow to accommodate however many thou needeth. Now can somebody passeth the bloody wassail?”

Foreigners began appearing soon after the  New Year to greet the new king, and Harry assumed they had been waiting to see if the “upstart” would take. Arthur welcomed them, and Harry sat back and watched his friend becoming a fair and just king.  The usual time of the Great Tournament approached , and Arthur deemed it a time of celebration as Britain had survived his first year of rule. So word went out and knights trickled in.

A week before the tournament was to begin, Harry was making his way down the corridor after a leisurely tea with Ambrosius when he came across a woman seated in one of the windowed alcoves of the portrait hall. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her face.

“My Lady?” She looked over and quickly rose to her feet with a small gasp. She gave a small curtsy.

“Sir Merlin, ‘tis a pleasure to see thee.”

Harry tilted his head slightly. “I apologize, fair maiden, have we met?”

A soft blush infused her cheeks as she shook her head. “No. But Ar- the King spaketh highly of you when last we met. I must admit, I thought thee much younger.”

A memory flashed through Harry’s mind: dark gardens and soft kisses. He smiled gently at the woman. “Being a wizard hath its advantages, Lady Guinevere.” Her blue eyes widened in alarm. “I had not realized the Duke had arrived as of yet.”

She nodded. “We arrived last eve.”

Harry nodded. “And hast thou attended the king since thine arrival?”

Her blue eyes shifted away for a moment. “His majesty is a busy man, Sir Merlin.”

Harry took a step towards the woman and placed a hand lightly on her arm. She shot him a startled glance. “But surely not for one such as thou, my Lady.”

“Me?” She shook her head, and Harry could see the glisten of tears at the corner of her eyes. “I am nobody, kind sir. An orphan. A mere ward to a gentleman of rank.”

Harry gave her a soft smile. “If thou wert but a nobody, thou wouldst not be here, my Lady. Wouldst thou looketh upon me as a nobody?”

A horrified look crossed her face. “Never, kind wizard!”

“Ah, but I too am a mere orphan. So, too, is Arthur.” Harry smiled conspiratorially at the woman. “We ‘nobodies’ must stick together, nay?” She chuckled and pressed her handkerchief to her wet eye. “Dost thou love him?”

She pressed the fabric to her mouth to muffle her sob as she nodded her head. “Since we were but children.”

Harry studied the woman before him. “A king needeth a strong queen.” Harry caught her eyes and without even thinking he was delving into her mind and memories. He saw a young girl pulled from a loving home, thrust into the household of a bachelor. He watched the girl fall in love as a boy protected her from village bullies. He saw a young woman making decisions and running a household like a small kingdom. He felt the rush of emotion as the young woman watched a familiar wagon pull into her guardian’s lands, her heart beating fast for a glimpse of a certain squire. Harry pulled back and gave a terse nod. “It is nearing dinner time, my Lady. Wilt thou save me a dance tomorrow?”

She gave a confused nod; Harry smiled and, with a small bow, continued on his way.

Harry slipped into Arthur’s chambers much later that evening, and his friend smiled up at him.

“Lose that ridiculous disguise, Merlin.” Harry chuckled as he felt the beard fade from his face and his hair shorten.

“Much better,” Ambrosius agreed as he passed out glasses of cognac.

They were settled around a blazing fire, and Harry waited until Arthur had relaxed before he sprang his trap. “I noticed we had several arrivals in the last few days. Everyone is gearing up for a spectacular celebration.”

“Ay,” Arthur agreed. “I was unsure about the turnout.”

“Thou hast already shown thyself to be a great king, Arthur,” Ambrosius said with a raise of his glass. “The people love thee.”

Harry chuckled. “Ay. And next they will be demanding a queen.”

Arthur started in his chair. “A queen!”

Harry laughed. “Ay, Arthur. Surely thou art aware of what that is. They usually come in the form of a female, tend to carry one’s heir for a period of nine months or such. Occasionally offer her King the comfort of her body.”

Ambrosius laughed as Arthur’s face turned an alarming shade of red.

“But, I wouldn’t even know how to court a lady that was fit to be queen.”

“Art thou a king or not, Arthur?” Harry demanded. “Take thy pick. Noblewomen lineth up outside thy door. Take them to thy bed, and whichever pleaseth thee most, offer a bride price. No guardian will pass up even the most meager offer to align themselves to thee.”

Harry was gratified to see the hard blush on the man’s face. “I am not like that, Merlin. Thou knowest this.” Harry shrugged and stared into the fire. He waited several minutes as the room went quiet.

“I ran into the Duke of Cornwall’s ward this morn,” he said nonchalantly.

“Merlin, thou manipulative bastard,” Arthur shouted, and Ambrosius laughed heartily.

Harry took a sip of his cognac to hide his smile. “A year ago, thou never thought to have her, Arthur. No one would deny thee thy choice now.” He looked up at his friend. “I saw thee in the Duke’s garden, Arthur. Think not that thou canst fool me. Thou lovest her. And she loveth thee.” Harry went silent and waited for his words to sink in.

“Take her to wife, Arthur,” Ambrosius said softly. “Before thou art forced to choose another.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Have Julius summon Cornwall and make an offer. Do not approach Cornwall thyself: thou dost not wish to seem overeager. Thou hast known Lady Guinevere since ye were children; it is acceptable to choose such a familiar comfort.”

Arthur took a sip of his cognac and nodded thoughtfully. After several minutes of silence he let out a loud bark of laughter. Harry and Ambrosius looked over at him, and he raised his glass. “Gentlemen, I am getting married.” Harry laughed as he raised his glass.

The engagement was announced at the closing ball of the tournament, and Arthur led a blushing Guinevere out onto the dance floor. The Duke of Cornwall and his ward stayed on after the other noblemen and knights left to return home, and wedding preparations began in earnest. 

 

Harry should have known things were going too smoothly. The cry came in the middle of the night sometime in mid-May, and by the time Harry made it down to the courtyard, it was full of clashing swords and screaming men. Harry sought out Arthur and saw his sword fall from his hands; Arthur reached out and pulled the sword from the stone and lashed out at his attacker. Harry saw a man sneaking up behind Arthur from the shadows and Harry shot a _Petrificus_ at the sneaking shadow. The man fell over, and Harry began petrifying others, their swords freezing in mid-air as they fell over. The attackers began to realize something was happening and slowly backed away from Arthur’s forces. Harry grabbed Thibault, the Captain of the Guard, “The intruders will be in the dungeon cells.” Thibault nodded and grabbed a few of the other castle guardsmen as Harry began trapping the petrified forces in ropes and releasing them from the _Petrificus_ before sending them to the dungeons. He was scanning the courtyard and surrounding streets when his eyes landed on a kneeling Arthur. Harry made his way over to his friend and broke into a run when he saw the body at the king’s feet.

“Arthur.” Blue eyes rose to meet his.

“Merlin. It’s Kay. Please. Help him.”

Harry reached the man and dropped to his knees, blood poured from several wounds over Kay’s body.  _ Oh, god. _ Harry fumbled for his wand and began mumbling incantations to heal the wounds, but some of the wounds wouldn’t heal no matter how much Harry willed it. 

“‘Tis poison,” Ambrosius whispered to Harry.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered harshly.

“Please, Merlin,” Arthur begged. “Help him.”

Harry continued casting spells over Kay knowing it was useless. He was no good with extracting poisons. It was the one thing Morgana had never been able to teach him. He knew she had long despaired of teaching him that particular art. “Morgana,” Harry whispered. 

“What?” Ambrosius said.

Making a decision, Harry placed a hand on Kay’s bleeding chest. “Grab ahold,” Harry demanded, and he was already spinning through the dark before he realized that there was an extra hand on his arm. They landed in a familiar clearing to a chorus of groans and retching. Harry glanced back at Ambrosius as he bent over behind a tree. “Sorry, Ambrosius.” The man waved him off, and Harry noticed the stowaway. He was one of the men that had recently joined Arthur’s court, a knight from one of the northern estates. The man blinked at him as if he realized he had made a mistake.

“Thou said to take hold, sir mage.”

“Merlin!” Harry looked up as Alexandria stepped through the shimmering portal.

“Please, Lady Alexandria. Morgana.” The woman nodded and motioned toward the portal. 

“She is waiting.” Harry stood and motioned for Arthur to pick up his brother.

“This is it, isn’t it, my lady?” Harry grabbed Ambrosius’s arm and reached for the knight.

Alexandria nodded. “Sister Morgana is ready, Merlin. She has accepted her fate.” Harry nodded.

“Come, Arthur. Let us get Kay to the healer.” Arthur nodded and followed the priestess through the portal. Harry pulled the other two through the shimmering portal, and Ambrosius let out a soft whistle as they stepped into the soft morning light of Enez-Sun.

“This is where thou didst train?” Ambrosius asked as he walked beside Harry and the knight.

“Ay, ‘tis,” Harry confirmed. 

“Will they be able to heal Sir Kay?” Harry turned to the stowaway.

“If Sir Kay can be healed, Lady Morgana can do it.” Harry studied the man beside him. “What is thy name, soldier?”

“Gawain of the Orkneys, Sir Merlin.”

Harry nodded. “Welcome to Enez-Sun, Gawain.”

They strode up to the abbey and were met by curious stares. Harry ignored them as he followed Alexandria to the small room set aside for the injured. Morgana was waiting for them and motioned for Arthur to place Kay on a cot. She glanced at Harry and made a face.

“Thou doth look ridiculous, Merlin.” She turned to Kay, and Harry remembered about his disguise. The hair morphed to his true color, and Gawain gaped at him.

“‘Tis poison, Morgana,” he said needlessly, and she nodded.

“Ay. I see. And yes, I can help him. Leavest me,” she ordered and turned to a girl of fourteen or fifteen that was standing off to the side. “Nimy, the moonstone salve.” Harry recognized the girl as one of Sal’s friends as he joined the others out in the corridor. 

Harry placed a hand on the pacing Arthur’s arm. “If Morgana sayeth he will be fine, he will be fine. She is the best. I would not have brought him here if I did not trust her.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank thee, Merlin.”

Harry nodded and stepped out of the way as Arthur resumed his pacing. He stepped over to Gawain. “What happened?”

A pained look crossed the man’s face. “T’was a breach in the castle. There was an attempt to abscond with the Duke’s ward.”

Harry gasped. “Guinevere.”

“The Lady is fine,” Gawain assured Harry quickly, “and the villain was dispatched by myself. But there were others awaiting the blackguard. In the courtyard and beyond. We were already heavily into the fight when the alarm was raised. By the time thou arrivest we had it nearly under control.”

Harry nodded. “Ay. I had seen as much.” They fell silent, and Harry was sure if a clock had been anywhere in the vicinity, its incessant ticking would have had them all drawing their weapons. The girl, Nimy, stepped through the door and rushed off. She reappeared a few moments later carrying a bundle of herbs and slipped back through the door. Arthur resumed his pacing, and Harry conjured tankards of mead for them. Gawain hesitated over his until Ambrosius had downed his and held the cup out for Harry to refill. Gawain still drank hesitantly. 

After what seemed like hours, but was probably closer to one or two, Arthur stepped up to them. “I should check on Guinevere. Canst thou returnest me?”

Harry looked over at Gawain. “The Lady?”

“Was taken by her handmaiden and given a sleeping tincture, I believe,” he answered as he looked curiously into his tankard.

Harry turned back to Arthur. “Wouldst thou believe me when I tell thee she will not even know thou hast left? I was here an entire sennight my first visit, and it was a mere few hours to Ambrosius.”

“‘Tis true,” Ambrosius said from the other side of the corridor. “I had barely returned to the tent when Merlin appeared stating he had already spent his allotted week with the priestess. ‘Twill seem as if no time has passed when we return.”

Arthur gave Harry a skeptical look, and Harry held his hand out. “Come. I will show thee.” Arthur took his hand and a moment later they were back in the courtyard. The night sky still shone around them with the remnants of the battle still there for all to see. Arthur moved over to where Kay had lain and looked at the blood soaked ground.

“He is my brother, Merlin. I cannot bear to lose him now.”

Harry stepped over to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He will be well. Trust _me_ , if nothing else.”

Arthur nodded. “I do.”  He knelt down and picked up a small dagger that Harry recognized as Kay’s. Arthur wiped the blood from the blade onto his tunic and picked up the hilt of a broken sword. Harry recognized it as Arthur stood and eyed the broken blade in the moonlight. “Thou wast correct ,” the King sighed . “It barely held through this skirmish. ‘Tis not a king’s sword.”

Harry gave a soft chuckle. “What thou needest is a goblin forged-” Harry paused as a thought occurred to him.

Arthur looked over at him. “A what?”

“A goblin forged weapon. Just the thing for a king like thee. That is what we will get thee. A weapon to rival all others.” Harry gave a firm nod of his head and held his hand out to Arthur. “Art thou satisfied that the lady will hold until we are assured of Kay’s health?”

Arthur nodded and took Harry’s hand. “Thank thee, Merlin.”

Harry Apparated them back to the portal, not sure if he could Apparate directly into Enez-Sun, and they made their way back to the abbey. Ambrosius met them in the entrance hall.

“Where hast thou been? The Lady Morgana finished hours ago. Gawain hath been sitting with Sir Kay, and the healer says he should awaketh soon.”

Arthur strode quickly through the corridors to the room Kay was in, and Harry and Ambrosius followed at a more sedate pace. By the time they reached the room, Arthur was standing over Kay’s bed and Gawain had moved away.

“...need plenty of rest, Sire,” Morgana was saying. “He will most likely spend the next several days sleeping. Rest is essential at this time. Wilt thou allowest me to tend to thy wound?”

“Wound?” Harry said surprised. “Arthur, thou art wounded? Why didst thou not tell me?”

Arthur waved a hand. “A mere scratch, Merlin.”

“Not if thou allowest it to continue to fester,” Morgana said. “Sit and allowest me to tend thee.” She looked up at Harry as Arthur settled onto the closest cot. “And Lady Alexandria biddeth me to tell thee, young Merlin, she would appreciate it if thou didst not Disapparate from inside her abbey.”

Harry felt himself blush. “I will apologize to the Lady myself.”

She nodded her head. “See that thou dost. In the meantime, I have sent for Rosalee to escort thee and thine to quarters.”

Harry gave a small bow. “Thank thee, Lady Morgana.”

As if on cue, the girl Harry remembered from the inner courtyard so long ago appeared. He smiled at her and beckoned for Ambrosius and Gawain to follow. They stepped out into the corridor, and the girl led the way to the guest wing.

“I hope we did not tear thee away from anything important, miss Rosalee,” Harry said slyly.

“No, sir Merlin. I was happy to accommodate thee.”

Harry glanced coyly at the girl. “So young Sal is not angry at me for pulling thee away?”

She shook her head. “No, he-” her cheeks burned a soft pink as she realized her admission. Harry laughed.

“So the rascal finally got the nerve to approacheth thee.”

She glanced over at him, a sly smile of her own. “No, sir, he did not.”

Harry let out a bark of laughter. “Very well, Rosalee. Perhaps thou wilt make an honest man of him yet.”

A small smile pulled at her lips. “Not for some time, sir Merlin. He is one destined to be a great teacher, thou knowest.”

“Is he?” Harry said with a tone of surprise. “I was unaware. And thee? Wilt thou teach alongside him?”

She shook her head. “Nay. That honor will go to my sister, Rowena.”

Harry paused in the corridor and blinked at the girl. She turned and looked curiously up at him. “Sir Merlin?”

He shook his head and motioned for her to continue. He sedately followed her and the two men, his mind awhirl with the words she had spoken. He barely registered when the other two were shown their rooms, and he stepped into the same guest room he had used on his first visit.

“Sir Merlin, art thou well?”

He pulled his mind back from its musings and nodded. “Tellest me, Rosalee. Sal is a nickname, is it not?”

She nodded. “Yes. His name is-”

“Salazar.”

She nodded. “Yes. How didst thou knowest? Art thou truly a Seer, Merlin?”

Harry shook his head with a chuckle. “No, child. I quite thoroughly failed that course of study. Thou art dismissed. I will show the others to dinner. Thank thee.”

She gave a slight curtsy and stepped through the door. Harry dropped to the cot and untied the small purse he still kept on his person at all times. He had amassed a few things in his years as Merlin, and most of the items he kept in his trunk at the castle. But the things he had arrived with stayed in the small pouch he kept tied to his belt. He pulled it open. “ _ Accio _ Hogwarts: A History.” He grabbed the book as it flew from the bag and let his fingers run over the cover. He flipped it open and turned to the founders’ biography page and read. They still had quite some time before they left the valley then. He wondered what happened to the shy boy to turn him so bitter towards muggles. And did he already speak Parseltongue? Oh, Merlin.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody ask for Lancelot?

It was two days after their arrival when Harry found himself in the inner courtyard. He reached out to press his fingers against the door Cecilia had pointed out would one day lead to Hogwarts. He wondered where it was anchored. He felt the presence move up beside him.

“Are they all children here? Sal, Rowena…?”

“I believe thou hast flown with young Godric,” Alexandria said softly. Harry nodded, remembering the boy that had yielded both pretend sword and wand during play. “And little Helga. The baker’s daughter.” An image of the little girl with brown curls that always seemed to be drenched in flour flittered through Harry’s mind. He chuckled.

“Yes. I see it now. Brave Godric, Ravenclaw intelligence shines brightly in young Rosalee though I have never met her sister, and sweet Helga, so accepting of everyone, always ready with a sweet treat and kind word.” Harry let out a soft sigh. “But they do not go straight to Sco- the school when they leave here.”

“No,” Alexandria confirmed. “They will need experience and growth. They must learn how to be among others of their kind and those not of their world.” Harry nodded. It made sense, he supposed.

“It will be a great school, won’t it?” Alexandria asked hesitantly.

Harry turned and smiled at her. “The best. Home to generations of children. It was- will be- the first place I truly call home.” 

She gave him a soft smile. “Thou wilt return someday, Harry Potter.” He started at the name he hadn’t heard in over three years. “And when thou dost, thou wilt return to thy home.” Her hand reached out to caress the door. “Now, I believe thou hast a meet with the goblins. It doth not bode well to make a goblin wait.”

Harry nodded, “Thank thee, Lady Alexandria.” He moved over to the door Cecilia had indicated for the goblins and pulled it open. He stepped into a familiar-looking building and met surprised, familiar goblin eyes. He smiled at the usually dour goblin. “I have a meet with Gringott.” The goblin snapped to attention.

“Right this way, sir.”

Harry followed the goblin through a familiar hallway and stopped at Gringott’s door. The goblin pushed the door open at Gringott’s command. The goblin behind the door blinked at Harry.

“Master Merlin, what a pleasant surprise. I was under the impression that a Sherwood Druid would be coming to see me today.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m afraid ‘tis simply I. I hope I am not too much of a disappointment.”

The goblin shook his head as he waved his assistant away. “Never, Master Merlin. I am always happy to see such a loyal customer. What might I do for thee today?”

He indicated the chair across from him, and Harry moved forward to sit down. “I am in need of a sword.” The goblin raised his furry brow and looked pointedly at Harry’s wand resting in the small pocket of Harry’s robe. “A sword and scabbard fit for a king.”

The thick brow went up higher. “For the muggle. Thou hast been busy, Master Merlin. Some of us have been keeping watch on thee.”

“He will a great king be and doth deserve a weapon great. A weapon that will go down in history, wizarding and muggle, as the greatest sword ever made. Goblin-forged steel and imbued with enchantments from the Lady of Avalon herself.” The goblin started at this statement.

“The Lady condones this then?”

Harry nodded. He was certain this was what Alexandria had meant by the Lady’s message when he last left Enez-Sun. “She doth. ‘Twas her guidance sent me here.”

Gringott nodded. “We will need a few days to craft such a weapon. ‘Twill not come cheap.”

“I would nay expect it to, Gringott.” Harry leaned forward and placed the large emerald that he had pulled from his pocket onto Gringott’s desk. “Will that cover the cost?”

The goblin gave a small nod. “And some. But I expect thou knowest that. What else didst thou seek, Master Merlin?” 

Harry pulled out a small scrap of parchment and handed it over to the goblin. “Medallions. The sword and rounded shield to indicate his knights and the dragon from his family crest. One on his scabbard and twelve others for his most loyal knights. I plan to imbue them with protective powers.”

“Only twelve, Mr. Merlin?” And Harry was quite sure the goblin was teasing him.

Harry smiled. “A nice even dozen, nay?”

This time the goblin did chuckle, a harsh grating sound, but Harry refused to wince. “Very well. It shall be done. We will owl thee when they are ready.”

Harry nodded. “I appreciate thy time, Master Gringott. I shall await thine owl.” The goblin nodded, and Harry stood and left the small office.  He stepped back through the connecting portal and made his way to the sickroom. Kay was sitting up in bed when Harry arrived.

“But thou must return,” Kay was saying adamantly. “After the skirmish, the others will be on edge.”

Harry walked up to the two brothers. “He is right, Arthur. ‘Tis morning at the castle now. Thou must appear and bring comfort to thy people.” Arthur looked up at Harry.

“I cannot simply leave my brother, Merlin.”

“I will stay, my King.” They looked up to see Gawain standing in the doorway.

Harry turned to Arthur. “I have commissioned a weapon from the goblins. When it is done we will return for the blessing and collect thy brother and Gawain. ‘ Twill be but mere days for us but Kay  shalt  be back to his hearty self by then. Fully healed with no lingering side effects.”

Arthur eyed the three men speculatively for several minutes. His eyes landed on Gawain. “Thou wilt not leave mine brother’s side.”

“Upon my honor, my liege.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thou mayst leave for sleep and food and other such necessities.” 

Arthur blinked at Harry, “Of course.” Harry sighed and turned to Gawain.

“Thou wilt keep watch over Sir Kay and aide Lady Morgana if she hath need.” Gawain nodded, and Harry gave a terse nod. “Good. Then let us return to the castle. I will find Ambrosius, who is no doubt lost in the library, and bid our goodbyes.”

A quarter hour later, Alexandria was walking them to the portal with the firm promise to watch over Sir Kay. Arthur made his bow and thanked her profusely for her help and hospitality before they stepped out into Sherwood. Harry changed his appearance to reflect the Merlin the castle inhabitants were accustomed to should someone be waiting in Arthur’s chambers. Arthur and Ambrosius took Harry’s arms; seconds later Ambrosius was bent over the chamber pot in Arthur’s personal chamber.

“Sorry, Ambrosius,” Harry said. Ambrosius shook his head and grabbed the glass of water that was floating beside his head.

“I shall never get used to that, Merlin.” He sipped at the water and rinsed his mouth out before taking a sip to soothe his stomach.

Harry turned to Arthur. “I recommend a change of clothes,” he said, indicating the borrowed robes the king wore, “preferably something regal and confident. Thy first stop shouldst be Lady Guinevere’s chambermaid to check on her Lady’s well-being. I realize thou wishest attend to the cutthroats from the attack, but do not givest them more importance than they deserve. Their punishment can wait.”

Arthur nodded and moved to his wardrobe. “Ambrosius and thou shalt attend me at nuncheon. The people will need the reassurance that this attack is nothing but a minor inconvenience.”

Harry nodded in agreement. The king could not be seen being rattled by a mere attempt to kidnap his affianced bride. Especially an attempt where no lives were lost. “We will see thee then, Arthur,” Harry reassured the man as he and Ambrosius headed towards the door. They stepped out into the hall, and two guards shot to attention. “The king will be out shortly.” They nodded, and Harry and Ambrosius headed to their own chambers. 

“The lady is well?” Harry asked when Arthur and his guards joined Harry outside the great hall. Arthur nodded.

“She resteth, but her maid sendeth a message from her Lady: she wisheth Sir Kay a speedy recovery and sendeth special thanks to the knight responsible for protecting her honor.” They made their way to their usual spot at the still round table and settled in as platters were placed in front of them. Word had spread through the castle that the king had ordered nuncheon, and several people slowly filtered in as they spoke.

Two young men appeared at the table looking nervous with wringing hands. They waited until Arthur acknowledged them before one spoke. “My king, we were given to understand that our brother served thee in the skirmish yestereve but have heretofore been unable to locate him. Couldst thou perchance tell us if he hath been taken captive?”

“Captive!” Arthur spat out. “None of those villains escaped. Who is thy brother?”

“Gawain of the Orkneys, sire,” the other man said.

“Rest assured thy brother is hearty. He sitteth guard over mine own brother during his convalescence.”

The two men bowed. “Thank thee, sire. We wish thine own brother a speedy recovery.”

“Thanks to Sir Merlin, Sir Kay  shall  be up and about in a few days.” Harry noticed the man made the pronouncement loud enough for the others at the table to hear, and he wasn’t sure if it was to reassure them about Kay or to praise Harry’s talents. 

A few days later, Harry received the expected owl and replied to Gringott that he would be down to retrieve the items that afternoon. Harry appeared at the familiar pub, and it wasn’t until he noticed people giving him strange looks that he realized he hadn’t changed his appearance. He shrugged and continued on to Gringott's. He didn’t bother to change his appearance until he stepped into the small shop. Once the reception goblin realized who he was, Harry was led back to the Sr. Gringott’s office.

The sword was beautiful: a tempered steel that seemed to shine with all the force of the sun. Runes of protection and strength ran the length of the blade on both sides, and the hilt was wrapped in dragonhide. The scabbard was an unadorned leather save for the simple medallion attached to the front. Harry nodded his approval at the sword, scabbard, and medallions before taking his leave. He made his way back to the castle and shut himself in his chambers as he spent the remainder of the day charming and enchanting each of the medallions. He had a plate sent up for dinner as he was too exhausted to make it to the great hall. He barely finished his meal before he was climbing into bed and passing out.

The next day, Harry and Arthur Apparated to Sherwood forest and stepped through the portal, Arthur’s sword by his side. He had praised Harry for its quality and design and thanked him profusely for the medallions. Harry had cautioned that there were only twelve so should only be given to Arthur’s most loyal. They made their way to the lake and the small cottage beside it. Arthur gasped as Lady Avalon stepped from her cottage into the midday sun, the reflection off the water playing on her blonde hair. She gave a deep curtsy.

“Good day, King Arthur. Merlin.”

“Hello, Lady,” Harry said.

“My Lady,” Arthur replied with a deep bow.

She gave a nod and held her hand out. “Might I the sword and scabbard see?”

Arthur handed it over, and Lady Avalon took it, withdrawing the sword from its sheath. Harry blinked as the sun reflected off the blade. She turned it over in her hands.

“A worthy blade for a worthy king. Treat it well and it will treat thee well.” She looked up at them, her violet eyes intense and dark. “Thou wilt return the sword unto me upon thy death. Others will hath need of it.” Her eyes flicked to Harry, and he blinked at her meaning. It was the first actual indication she had given that he would return home. Arthur nodded, and she turned away with the sword and scabbard. She crossed over to the lake and settled down on the grass beside the water. Harry heard a soft chant and watched as she dipped her hand into the water and poured the sparkling liquid over the blade and hilt. She repeated the process three times before turning it over and repeating the ritual. Finished, she rose and lifted the sword out in front of her, even from here, Harry could feel the magic emanating  from  it. She slid it back into its scabbard and held it out to Arthur. “Mayst thou be blessed in whatsoever thou dost.”

Arthur took the weapon with a bow. “Thank thee, Lady Avalon.” She gave a nod and turned to go back into her cabin. Arthur turned to Harry. “I can almost feel the magic. ‘Tis amazing. Thank thee, Merlin.”

Harry smiled at the man. “Let us go gather thy brother and Gawain.”

Alexandria met them at the entrance to the abbey with a smile. She led them to the guest room Sir Kay had moved into several weeks before.

“I believe thou hast arrived at the most opportune moment, King Arthur. Thy brother was becoming quite antsy and eager to returneth home.”

Harry chuckled as Arthur knocked on the door. It swung open and a healthy Kay beamed at his brother and pulled him in for a hug. “Blessed be. Thou hast returned for me, Brother. I thought to go mad should I stay much longer.”

Arthur laughed and pounded Kay on the back. “I am glad to see thee back to thine old self, Brother.”

“We shall leave ye to catch up,” Alexandria said. “I will take young Merlin to collect Gawain.”

The brothers nodded, and she motioned for Harry to follow her. They headed back towards the sickroom and were intercepted by a young woman who approached Alexandria about one of the Druid brothers. Harry assured her he remembered the way to Morgana’s domain, and the priestess left him with a small smile of thanks. Harry continued on his way, stepped into the sickroom, and paused. His lips pulled up into a smile at the sight of the normally stoic healer blushing fiercely as she looked up at Gawain. The knight-to-be looked down at the witch with a soft expression, and Harry almost hated to interrupt them. He knocked softly at the door, and the two jumped apart. Morgana’s blush deepened and even Gawain’s cheeks above his beard were a soft pink. Harry smiled cheekily at Morgana.

“Am I to assume I am forgiven for my return then?”

She glared at him. “Never assumest anything, young Merlin.” Her gaze softened as it settled on Gawain. “But I will concede that perhaps it is time for me to leave Enez-Sun.”

Harry nodded. “I believe the king wisheth to depart soon. Art thou ready, Gawain?”

The man glanced down at the witch. “Ay.”

Morgana blushed. “Permit me to gather my things, and I shall join thee presently.” Gawain nodded and turned to Harry.

“Is the king with his brother?” Harry nodded. “Then I shall report.” He left, and Harry turned to Morgana and smirked.

“I told thee thou needest a knight.”

“Hush thy mouth, Merlin.” Harry laughed as she flounced from the room.

 

Sir Kay and Gawain returned to the castle with little fanfare and life resumed. Gawain’s brothers accepted Morgana easily, and she became fast friends with Lady Guinevere. Arthur made Sir Kay his first Royal Knight of the Round Table, as he had decided to call his elite knights, quickly followed by Sir Gawain for his heroics in saving the future queen. The royal wedding approached, and noble families from across the land trickled in. Harry watched over it all with a growing sense of ennui and restlessness. 

The wedding was an elaborate affair culminating in the Great Tournament, and marking Harry’s fourth year as Merlin. Soon after, Sir Gawain and Lady Morgana were married in a much smaller affair, and they retreated to Gawain’s father’s estate for a time. Soon after Gawain left, a young man showed up at the court, introducing himself as Lancelot Du Lac of France. Harry eyed the Frenchman appreciatively, but had no doubts that the man was off limits. If he were to be a part of Arthur’s court, Harry couldn’t very well seduce the man and reveal his true visage. Perhaps that was Harry’s problem; it had been quite some time since he had bedded a man, having spent so much time and energy getting Arthur settled.

“Thou art bored,” Ambrosius proclaimed one evening as they sat in Harry’s chambers sipping cognac. Harry nodded.

“Perhaps I am. I am unused to such a mundane existence. Since I was a boy I have gone from one adventure to the next.”

“And now thou hast nothing to do but sit around, nay?”

Harry laughed. “I had thought to do a bit of traveling. Arthur is settled in, his knights are growing, he hath good council. I will leave him a way to reacheth me, of course, but perchance 'tis time I let the little sparrow tryeth his wings.”

Ambrosius laughed. “I shall tell Arthur he is thy ‘little sparrow’.” 

Harry laughed. “Darest thou not.” He let out a soft sigh. “But I do think ‘tis time I moved on. I feel I still have much to learn. There be many foreign lands and foreign ways  from which to glean .” Harry noticed the gleam of interest in Ambrosius’s eyes. “Dost thou wish to travel as my companion, Ambrosius?”

“Art thou serious, Merlin?”

Harry nodded. “Ay. I know thou still hast a scholarly bent to thee, and thou mayst hone thy story-telling of my great adventures,” he added with a teasing tone.

Ambrosius laughed. “Naught holds me here, Merlin. I would love to join thee on thy journey.”

Harry did an altered version of the Protean charm, similar to what Hermione had used on the DA coins, to charm a medallion for Arthur to be able to reach him should he need Harry. Just after Harry’s 24th birthday, he and Ambrosius set off. They spent nearly two years traveling Europe and Asia, studying with monks, potioneers, and great magicians. Ambrosius easily fell back into scholar mode as he and Harry spent months researching and making notations for Harry’s potions and spell-crafting. Harry filled up several more books with his new inventions and knowledge. They returned to Britain and stopped by to visit Arthur. He introduced them to his new son and several of the knights that had joined his castle in their absence. Harry’s eyes once again fell to the Frenchman, but he pushed the thought away.

After a few months in the castle, Harry left for Enez-Sun and was gratified to see his old friends. As he and Alexandria spoke of his travels, she offered him the opportunity to pass his growing knowledge on to the children. Harry agreed with the express condition that the baker’s daughter be allowed to join his classes. Alexandria gave a knowing smile and agreed. 

Seeing the four founders as such young adults was surreal. Sal was still a shy, awkward teenager who constantly kept shooting the young Rosalee blushing glances. Rowena was as bookish and inquisitive as he had suspected with a touch of that older sibling air that made Harry wonder why Hermione hadn’t been sorted Ravenclaw. Godric was a true Gryffindor, plunging into every lesson with gusto and teasing Sal with abandon. Bright Helga, the youngest of the bunch, flittered around the classroom, always ready to help the other students, whether it was Nimy with her healing spells or Cristobal with his geography, she listened avidly to Rosalee’s tales and encouraged Godric’s chivalric nature. When Helga’s older brother came to pick her up after classes, Harry felt a rush of relief he hadn’t pursued that relationship, the boy was so much younger than him now.

After several months of teaching the children, he was approached by Cecilia who told him the Lady of the Lake wished a word with him. Unsure of what to expect, he made his way to her cabin. She greeted him with a smile and tea. She might have started out with the banalities of inquiring of his days, but Harry wasn’t fooled. One did not spend six years at the knee of the late Albus Dumbledore without learning a thing or two. He indulged her and answered her questions with civility. 

“The children tell me they are quite enjoying their lessons with thee, Merlin. Thou bringest a new perspective to the classroom.”

Harry took a sip of his tea and gave a small shrug. “I teach what interests me. It pleases me to know the children find it interesting as well.” 

She nodded. “But thou plannest to return to what the muggles are calling ‘Camelot’ soon.”

Harry really shouldn’t have been startled at her pronouncement. “I have been giving it no small thought. I wish to concentrate on my spell-crafting with the knowledge I have gained.”

She gave another nod. “I understand. I wondered if thou wilt an apprentice to thee takest? My daughter hath expresseth an interest in such a position.”

And that really did startle Harry. “Daughter? But, I thought all the sisters were… um…”

Lady Avalon let out a soft chuckle. “Virgins, Merlin?” A soft twinkle entered her violet eyes. “But I am not a priestess, am I?” Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “I fell in love many years ago and chose to leave the sisterhood. Soon after my daughter was born, my husband was murdered, so I returned here to take up my rightful place as Lady Avalon. My daughter will do the same when it is her time. In the meantime, I wish for her to maketh her way in the world. She hath twenty years until it is time for me to step down.” She gave Harry a significant look. “And thou hast less, Merlin.” Harry felt a pang of longing he hadn’t felt in over a year.

Harry nodded. “‘Twould be a great honor to teach thy daughter, Lady Avalon.”

She gave him a soft smile. “I knew thou wouldst say as much, Merlin.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

“So which of the children is thine?”

She turned her head slightly. “Nimue,” she called, and Harry was surprised to see the petite brunette that often sat at the back of the small group of students step through a darkened doorway.

“Nimy?” he questioned. She looked up, and it was then Harry realized the girl always kept her head lowered. It was the reason he had never known she was Lady Avalon’s daughter, because there was no mistaking those clear violet eyes.

He stood and bowed to the girl. “Miss Nimue, ‘twould give me great pleasure to introduce thee to the wonders of my world.”

Her cheeks turned a soft pink, and she made a deep curtsy. “Thank thee, sir Merlin,” she said in a soft voice. “I shall do my best to make thee and Mother proud.”

Lady Avalon reached out to take Nimue’s hand. “I haven’t any doubt thou shalt, my child.”

After that, Harry pulled Nimue to the front of the class and began testing her knowledge and abilities to see where she stood. She was bright and had a good handle on her magic. Once she opened up, Harry saw what a delightful girl she was. Her intelligence and wit was charming and kept him on his toes. He helped her in starting her own journal and found she had a knack for runes, so he taught her some of the old Persian runes he had learned on his travels.

When Harry judged he had been in Enez-Sun for almost a year real-world time, he and Nimue packed up and said their goodbyes. They stepped out into Sherwood forest and immediately Nimue mentioned her powers feeling stronger. Harry explained about the earth magic, that her life in Enez-Sun made her sensitive to it, and he took the time to alter his appearance while she watched in amazed horror that he would allow himself to be seen as such. He laughed and went on to explain about Apparition. She said she thought she could handle it, and he smirked before holding his arm out. Harry had to admit she did better than Ambrosius his first few times. They landed in the courtyard next to the old stone that had once held the Sword, and Nimue looked around in amazement. Several guards ran up to them, swords drawn until a familiar man wearing the captain’s colors stepped forward.

“Put away your swords, ye blinking idiots. ‘Tis merely Merlin, the King’s own advisor and wizard.” Thibault turned to Harry and smiled broadly. “Good morn, Merlin. Welcome back.”

Harry smiled at the captain. “Thibault. All is well, I hope.”

The man nodded. “‘Tis. And thee?”

Harry didn’t miss his eyes going to Nimue. “‘Tis well. Thibault, this is my apprentice, Nimue. Her mother entrusteth her care to me. I am sure I can rely on thee as well.”

The guard gave a firm nod. “Ay, Sir Merlin. Come and I will escort ye  both  to the queen’s chambers.”

Harry nodded and followed the guard, wondering why they weren’t being escorted to Arthur. His answer came after an exuberant greeting by Guinevere.

“He hath been on campaign these last six months. An uprising along the eastern seaboard. Invaders inciteth a riot. We expect him home soon.” She motioned to the women gathered around the room, and his eyes landed on a very pregnant Morgana. He beamed at her and made his way over. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in a hug.

“Thou lookest well, Lady Morgana.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I see Gawain has kept thee well… fed. What sayeth he when he returneth to find his wife hath gained more stone than he hath lost?”

Morgana pushed him away with a laugh. “Thou art jealous the king hath taken all his knights with him, Merlin.” He laughed and summoned Nimue forward.

“Thou rememberest Nimue.”

She wrapped the girl in a hug. “Nimy. How art thou?”

Harry left them then, allowing the girl to reacquaint herself with her old teacher, and headed to the library in search of Ambrosius. As he had expected, he found the man bent over books.

“Didst thou not join His Highness on his quest to quell the masses, thou coward?” 

Ambrosius’s head shot up from his books, and a huge grin splashed across his face. “Merlin!” He pushed from the table and stood up to give Harry a hard hug. “I see thou with thy presence deign blessest us.”

“I thought thou wouldst gettest lost without me, Ambrosius. I cannot allow my favorite storyteller to wither away to nothingness.”

“Ah, so thou admitest I am thy favorite,” the man said smiling as he pushed away and began to close up his books.

Harry laughed, “Only among the storytellers.”

Ambrosius smiled slyly at Harry. “Ah, but are not we all mere storytellers in one way or another?”

Harry sighed and shook his head as they left the library. “I believe I need new friends, Ambrosius. Thou hast figured me out.”

Ambrosius laughed and clapped Harry on the back. “Fear not, my friend. I shall not spill thy secrets.”

They made their way to Harry’s chambers; he pulled out his bag and pulled his shrunken trunk from its depths. He placed it at the foot of the large bed and enlarged it before flipping it open and pulling out a book. He turned and handed it to Ambrosius. “I took the time to copy a few passages from some of the books in the abbey library that I thought might interest thee.”

Ambrosius took the book. “Oh, thank thee, Merlin.”


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for the Wizarding world to meet Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Harry/OC if you can't stomach that. But it's short and at the end.

It was another month before Arthur and his knights returned. A month Harry spent catching up with Ambrosius, Guinevere, and Morgana. A month spent getting Nimue accustomed to castle life. The queen and her ladies in waiting had taken a shine to the girl and enjoyed dressing her up in their finery. Nimue was a hit with the visiting lords of the castle, and Harry had no doubt she would attract any number of knights when they returned. He took her to visit Gringott and they stopped by Ollivander’s so she could say hello to the old wizard that had given her her wand in his younger days. Soon they settled into a routine of learning and castle life.

The arrival of the king came with the herald of an outrider sent ahead to inform the castle the king and his knights were a day’s ride from returning. The castle was sent into an uproar as they readied rooms and feasts to welcome the royal coterie home. They appeared with the wave of red and gold banners on the horizon, and by the time they reached the city proper, the streets were filled with cheering crowds. The men looked weary but excited. Arthur had eyes for none but his queen, and as his horse entered the courtyard, he jumped from its back and embraced his wife heartily. Arthur was not the only one to do so. Several other knights embraced loved ones, including Gawain, who kissed first Morgana then her belly. 

Arthur pulled away from Guinevere and turned to face the crowd. Harry was pleased to see he didn’t need to cast a  _ Sonorous _ on the man for his voice to carry. “Please, allow my men and I the morn to rest and  bathe in that which doth  not consist of cold river water,” cheers from the returning knights echoed with the laughter of the citizens, “then we shall join ye for the celebration of our return.”  He gave a jaunty wave and disappeared into the castle with Guinevere, the other knights following.

It was evening before Arthur, Gawain, and several of the other knights joined the great hall, blushing brides by their sides. Harry stayed off to one side and listened to the stories, outrageous and credible alike, of Arthur’s victory. Harry’s eyes played over the strong figures of the knights taking in their battle-hardened bodies. His eyes landed on a distracting blonde and it took him some time to recognize the Frenchman. Harry shifted uncomfortably, glad he was able to wear his wizarding robes instead of the tunic and tights of the court dress. Harry was grateful for the distraction of Arthur’s arrival and clapped along with the crowd in heralding their king’s victory. 

“This is all so amazing, Merlin.” Harry looked down at the wide-eyed Nimue and chuckled.

“Yes, it is rather. He makes a good king, and his court is loyal. We are lucky to study in his reign.”

She looked out over the crowd, and he watched her eyes glitter. “Thank thee for bringing me.”

He smiled at the young woman. “‘Tis a pleasure, Nimue.”

“And ‘twill be my pleasure to know the name of thine young companion, Merlin.”

Harry looked up at the strong voice and smiled at his red-headed friend. “Arthur Pendragon. What brings thee to my corner of the castle?”

“Thy corner? I rather thought the entire castle was mine.”

Harry shook his head. “What have I told thee of this thinking business?”

Arthur let out a great guffaw and pulled Harry off his feet and into a hug. “‘Tis wonderful to see thee again, old friend.”

Harry clapped the broad back. “Careful whom thou callest old, old friend,” Harry said, but he could only imagine what that must look like to anyone other than Ambrosius and Kay, Harry with his long grey hair and beard saying that to the young king. Arthur lowered him with a laugh.

“Allowest me to introduce thee to my brave knight,” Arthur said, stepping aside to reveal the Frenchman. “Merlin, meet Sir Lancelot. Lance, meet my greatest friend and advisor, Merlin.”

The man gave a deep bow, and Harry nodded. “‘Tis a pleasure to meet thee, Monsieur Merlin,” the man said, his soft French accent barely coming through. “His Highness speaketh well of thee.”

Harry fought back the blush and gave a nod. “As well he should. I know his greatest secrets,” he added with a wink towards Guinevere. She giggled and clutched at Arthur’s arm. “Servest our king well I trust thou hast.” The man nodded, and Harry saw his eyes flicker towards Nimue. He tamped down the surge of regret, trying to tell himself it didn’t matter anyways because the man would never see him as a young lover. “Allowest me to introduce mine apprentice: Miss Nimue of Enez-Sun. Nimue: His highness, King Arthur and his wife, Queen Guinevere of Camelot.”

Nimue gave a deep curtsy, and Arthur tipped his head in greeting. “Welcome to Camelot, Nimue. I hope Merlin can teacheth thee enough to warrant thy decampment from such a lovely home.”

Harry snorted as Nimue gave a soft chuckle, leaning in slightly. “I believe thy queen hath already taught me more in a month than I have learned from Merlin in a year.”

“Off to bed with thee, brat,” Harry attempted to intone regally, and the small group laughed.

Arthur patted her shoulder consolingly. “Thou hast my permission to stay and enjoy the feast, young lady. Ignore the irascible wizard.”

Nimue curtsied. “Thank thee, my king. I shall do as thy biddest.” She turned and gave Harry a cheeky smile before flouncing off.

Arthur laughed at Harry’s dismayed look and clapped him on the back. “She will giveth her lover a merry chase, Merlin. Best lockest her in the tower and away with it.”

Harry smiled at the retreating figure. “She is vivacious and learneth to spread her wings.”

“Another sparrow, Merlin,” Ambrosius said, joining them. Harry laughed at the inside joke and shook his head.

“My nest seemeth to be filled with them, Ambrosius.” The bard/scholar shook his head, and Harry noticed Sir Lancelot take his leave of the king. “I suppose the next week will be nothing but celebrations.”

Arthur nodded, looking as if he didn’t quite care for the idea. “I will of course have to meet with my council over matters that aroseth in my absence, but they are fairly competent. Shall we say tomorrow eve in my chambers, gentlemen?” Arthur’s eyes moved between Harry and Ambrosius. “I wish to catch up without the trappings of formality.”

“I am free this evening,” Harry offered casually and laughed at the flash of horror on Arthur’s face and the blush that filled Guinevere’s cheeks. Harry laughed and clapped Arthur on the arm. “I jest. I know ‘tis not my face thou wishest to see this eve.” Guinevere’s blush deepened, and Arthur’s cheeks turned a soft pink as well. “Tomorrow it is,” Harry agreed for he and Ambrosius.

Arthur and Guinevere soon had to depart, and the night wore on. It was closer to dawn than nightfall by the time Harry made it to his chambers. He was awoken mid-morn by a knock at the door and a breakfast tray. The maid that delivered the tray spoke of the small fair that had literally popped up overnight filled with booths and games. Harry thought Nimue might like that and sent the maid to enquire after the girl. Nimue and Harry both enjoyed the gathering, walking the streets and buying food, drink, and trinkets off the vendor stalls. They were near the pub that led to the wizarding street when he heard raucous laughter and taunts. He and Nimue cautiously made their way over to a group of men. Several of the men had their wands out pointing at a dancing muggle. The man’s face told the story, and Harry felt his indignation flare.

“What dost thou think thou art doing?” he demanded of the wizards. One of the wizards turned to him and sneered.

“Get lost old man. Just having a bit of fun.”

“Leave him be,” Harry demanded as he drew his wand. The other wizard laughed.

“What can thou dost, old timer?” The man turned his wand on Harry.

“ _ Expelliarmus. _ ” The man’s wand flew into Harry’s hand, and the surrounding wizards gaped at him in astonishment. Oops. Harry thought he vaguely recalled that his signature spell hadn’t actually been invented until the thirteenth or fourteenth century. Damn. Harry cast a silent  _ Finite _ on the still dancing muggle. “Seeth to the muggle, Nimue.” She moved over to the man, and Harry watched the others carefully. “Thou thinkest it be sport to play with muggles? Shall I play with thee in such a way?”

The disarmed wizard held his hands out as if to ward off Harry. “Thou wouldst not dare.”

Harry sneered. “Thou art correct. I would never play with an unarmed man.” Harry tossed the wizard’s wand at him, and the man fumbled with it before clasping it to his chest. “Be gone with thee, thou scoundrel,” he sneered at the idiot.  


Harry gave a nod of dismissal and waited until the muggle man had left the alley before turning to Nimue. It took only a minute for the familiar feeling to wash over Harry. Memories of fourth year and Crouch’s lessons ran through his mind as he tossed the curse off. This time he didn’t even say the word before the man’s wand was back in his hand. He caught it as he turned to growl at the man. “A coward that picketh on muggles and waiteth until a wizard’s back is turned.” He bound the man and forced him to make his way to the wizarding pub. Several celebrating patrons stopped at Harry’s entrance, and he was glad to see they looked like the wealthier of the wizarding society. One wizard with bright red hair stepped forward.

“Here now, what be this?”

Harry pushed the bound wizard forward. “This is what ye send to the muggle world to represent ye? A coward and bully.”

There were gasps of outrage. “Who art thou to makest such claim?” A wizard from the back called.  


“I am Merlin, a proud but humble wizard, and I will not allow myself to be represented by such filth.”

“I have heard of thee,” the man said. “Thou art the king’s…  _ advisor _ .” the wizard said the word as if he equated it with vermin. “Thou art the one that lowerest thyself to  _ serve _ the weak muggles.”

“I  _ aid  _ my fellow human being in order to better Britain. Muggle and Wizarding.”

“What did Nott do?” One of the other patrons called out.

Harry turned to glare at the bound man. “I should have known thou wast of that ilk.” Harry turned back to the crowd. “He attacked a muggle.”

There were shouts of outrage and gasps. “He did not attack a muggle,” one of the men that had been in the alley bellowed indignantly.

Harry turned to the man. “Didn’t he? He cast a spell on an unarmed man. Wizard or no, that is a clear attack.”

“‘Twas a simple  _ tarantallegra, _ ” the witness replied. “An innocent jinx for a bit of fun.”

“A bit of fun,” Harry said indignantly. “Thou randomly castest jinxes and spells upon unsuspecting muggles?” He turned back to the crowd. “Is this what ye want? The muggles outnumber us ten to one, easily. If we teach them to fear us they will retaliate.”

The wizard from earlier spoke up again. “Thou makest a mountain out of a molehill, old wizard.”

Harry sneered at the stupid wizard. “Givest me thy wand and allowest me to cast the  _ Crucio _ on thee.”

“That’s inhumane,” the man spluttered, taking a step back as if afraid Harry would truly do it.

“Yet thou wouldst allow it to be done to a muggle?”

“It was simply a  _ tarantallegra _ ,” the man repeated the other wizard’s words from earlier.

“For now,” Harry agreed. “Then it’s a tripping jinx. Then an  _ Imperio _ . And before long ye hath wizards thinking ‘tis just to  _ Crucio  _ muggles for fun.”

“No one would ever-”

“They have,” Harry cut him off. “I have seen it. Thou claimest the muggles are our weaker brethren. Then is it not our duty to protect them, as we protect our children? Our women?” The pub was silent save the occasional shuffle of feet. Harry glanced around the pub. “Know this, fellow wizards. I will not sit idly by while ye abuse the muggles. ‘Tis our job to protect the weaker of our species and aid them in their advancements, and I will not rest until acts of this kind are punishable by the law. And if any of ye here choose to stand against me, ye might wish to reconsider.” He turned to the bound man and released the gag from his mouth. “Tell them, Nott, what curse thou usest on me when I had my back turned.” More shocked gasps. “Tell them, Nott. Or shall I?” 

The man glared at Harry, “ _ Imperio. _ ” Harry turned to the man’s friend that had spoken on his behalf earlier.

“And tell me, fellow wizard. Did it look like at any time that I was under such a curse?” The man shook his head.

“But, that’s impossible,” cried a witch. “No one can throw off that curse.”

Harry held his arms out wide. “Wouldst thou care to try, madame? I givest thee leave to cast it thyself upon my person. Or choosest one of thy more powerful compatriots if thou thinkest they can achieve it.” There was a murmur among the crowd and a softly muttered  _ Imperio _ . As before, Harry barely registered the curse try to take over his mind. He turned to Nimue who had stood quietly by the door. “I believe we are done here.” They left the pub, leaving its patrons gaping after them in silence. Harry was glad Nimue waited until they were several blocks away before clapping with a gleeful giggle. They made it back to the castle in time to get dressed for dinner. 

By the time Harry made it down, Nimue was already regaling Ambrosius and Morgana about the day’s events. He felt his cheeks heat up at their teasing and was thankful when the meal was served. After dinner, drinks were served once the women departed, and Harry had to deal with Arthur’s needling about the day’s events, offering to make the man a knight in his own right. They eventually separated with the agreement to meet in an hour’s time in Arthur’s chambers for nightly drinks. On his way to his rooms, Gawain cornered Harry with some concerns about Morgana’s pregnancy as her time for her laying-in drew closer. Harry had very little knowledge on the subject, so they sought out Nimue. After a half hour’s lesson on more than Harry ever wanted to know he wanted nothing more than a hard drink and to get rid of his beard. He had passed out the night before before he had gotten rid of it, and it was starting to itch. He made his way to Arthur’s rooms and nodded at the two guards as he stepped inside.

Harry nodded at Ambrosius, already spread out in his usual chair and stalked to the corner of the room where Guinevere had left a small hand mirror on the writing desk. He could already feel the weight of his hair on his head easing as it shortened and turned back to its original black.“Bloody hell. I am heartily sick of this damned beard,” he exclaimed as he dragged a hand over the disappearing hair on his chin. 

“Um, Merlin…” came Ambrosius’s almost desperate voice.

“Arthur,” Harry said as he turned around, eyeing the redness on his chin in the mirror, “I don’t suppose you have any of that soothing salve left?”

“Merlin, you idiot.” Harry looked up at Arthur’s harsh tone and felt the blood drain from his face at the gaping, blonde-haired man standing beside the king.

“Bloody fuck,” Harry exclaimed. He glared at Ambrosius. “Thou couldst have warned me.”

“You were changing back before the door even closed, Merlin. There was little I could do,” Ambrosius defended himself.

Harry glared at Ambrosius and crossed the room to grab the extra glass of whiskey off the table. He dropped into one of the chairs and raised it in a toast. “Well, there thou goest, Sir Lancelot Du Lac of France. Thou hast discovered King Arthur’s greatest secret. His advisor is nothing more than a twenty-six-year-old wizard with too much time on his hand and too much power at his disposal.”

Arthur laughed. “Not  _ my  _ greatest secret, Merlin.” The two men moved over to fill the remaining chairs. “Perhaps ‘tis thy greatest secret.”

Harry smirked at the man. “Thou shalt never know my greatest secret, Arthur.”

“Twenty-six,” Ambrosius said as he sipped at his drink. “I always wondered how old thou wert. That would madest thee… twenty when we met.”

“Nineteen, actually,” Harry corrected. “My first birthday here was spent in Enez-Sun.”

Ambrosius nodded. “I sometimes forget about that first year. We only traveled to the tournament and back to Sherwood together.”

“Where art thou from, Merlin?” Lancelot asked, the soft burr of his voice sent shivers down Harry’s spine. The tension in the room was immediately palpable. Harry took a sip of his whiskey and smiled enigmatically.

“I suppose the Seers would say: I am from here, but a long way from home.” Lancelot blinked at him, but Arthur let out a loud guffaw.

“Is that what thou sayest these days?”

Harry shrugged. “Good as any other answer.”

Arthur shook his head and turned to Lancelot. “Thou must forgivest our Merlin. He is quite secretive about his past.”

“‘Tis because he is a demon-spawn and wert baptized by the Pope in the Jordan River to ensure his righteousness,” Ambrosius declared with a wave of his hand.

Harry scoffed at the man. “Ay,” he said blandly. “But unlike Jesus, I do not turn water into wine.” And with a wave of his hand, the contents of Ambrosius’s glass disappeared. Ambrosius glared into the offending vessel.

“Heathen!” he cried, and the other men laughed. Ambrosius hefted himself to his feet and strode across the room to grab the whiskey decanter. They settled down as Arthur began asking Harry questions about his time in Enez-Sun and his plans for the foreseeable future. They eventually made it back to the topic of what Arthur had been doing during the last year, and Harry learned how the king and knight had grown close during the campaign. As the night sky began to lighten, Harry finally Apparated to his own chamber and passed out from exhaustion, his dreams filled with blonde hair and soft lips.

 

After another late breakfast the following day, Harry spent the time in his rooms working on his spell-crafting. Nimue came in some time that afternoon, and they worked on her charmwork and enchantments until Nimue was summoned to the queen’s chambers to be prepared for dinner. The queen had made Nimue her little project and enjoyed dressing the girl up in finery. Still exhausted from the last few days, Harry lay down for a quick nap. He was still a bit groggy when he went down to dinner, but after a glass of whiskey, he was feeling much better. He mingled among the early arrivals and complemented Nimue extensively when he saw the queen’s handiwork. Harry couldn’t help but notice the odd glances Lancelot was throwing his way and wondered if the man was having a hard time reconciling the younger version he’d been subjected to the previous night with the bearded figure gliding through the great hall. Dinner seemed interminable, and Harry barely lasted an hour with the men after the women left. Pleading a busy day, Harry retired to his rooms and quickly divested himself of his guise and the ornamental robes he wore to dinner. He filled up a hip bath with warm water and had a quick wash before slipping into a loose pair of trousers. There was a knock on his door, and Harry summoned a houserobe. He slipped it on and tied the sash as he felt his hair lengthen and the beard grow. He pulled the door open and his body immediately responded to the well-muscled blonde that stood there.

“Pardon, Sir Merlin. I hope I am not intruding.”

Harry shook his head. “No, no. Please. Come in. And callest me ‘Merlin.’” Harry stepped out of the way, and Lancelot stepped into the room. Harry let the door close behind the knight. “Wouldst thou like a drink?”

“Thank thee, but nay. I believe I have had enough for the night. I wanted to reassurest thee that thy secret was safe with me.”

Harry smiled at the knight. “I thank thee, Sir Knight. In that case, dost thou mind?” Harry indicated his face, and Lancelot shook his head.

“No. Please. It-” Was the man blushing? “I imagine thou much preferest thy true visage.”

Harry nodded as his hair shortened and shook it out, letting the soft strands rub against his neck as he moved over to the small drink bar he kept in his room. “I do. ‘Tis one thing I miss about Enez-Sun. I can go about in my true self.”

Lancelot gave a wave of his hand. “Please feel free to do so in my presence as well, sir Merlin.”

Harry poured out a small measure of the brandy he kept there and turned to face the knight. He took a sip of the strong alcohol and smiled at the knight. “Of course, thou realizest I could make thee forget thou ever sawest me thus?” Harry waved his free hand. “A simple wave of my wand and thou wouldst be a lonely beggar with no memory of even thy name.”

Lancelot smiled saucily at Harry, making his stomach flip. “But thou art nay that type of man, art thou?”

There was something in the man’s voice that made Harry’s mouth go dry. He swallowed. “Why thinkest thou so?”

Lancelot shrugged. “Arthur would not deign to associate with such a person.” Harry nodded in concession to the argument and took another sip of brandy. “But why dost thou?”

Harry glanced up at the man. “The disguise?” Lancelot nodded. “I was there when Arthur pulled the sword. Had known for some time he was destined to do such. I also knew the old court would not accept a mere youth to advise the new king. And make no mistake that I did look the part of a mere youth. So I took on the guise of my former mentor, a wizened, crazy old man whom I respected greatly.”

Lancelot seemed to study him for some time before he took several steps towards Harry. “This place thou speaketh of, Enez-Sun, ‘tis the only place thou canst… be thyself?”

Harry nodded, heat building in his belly at the knight’s closeness. “Ay. They were of the few who knew me before my new guise. I go back occasionally to visit and teach the children.”

“And thy lover does not mind only these… occasional visits?”

“Nay,” Harry said almost breathless as Lancelot had stepped closer, within arms reach. “I mean. I haven’t a lover. Enez-Sun is a Druidess commune.”

“Then, with so few people who knoweth thy true form, it must get lonely.” Lancelot reached out to slide a finger between the folds of Harry’s housecoat, brushing over his warm skin. “None to warm thy bed.” His other hand moved to pull slowly on Harry’s belt. Harry knew the man was moving slow, giving Harry a chance to pull away. Like hell he was. “None to wakest thee with kisses and other… more enjoyable acts.” Lancelot moved closer, pressing his body to Harry’s as a hand slid hotly around Harry’s waist and pulled Harry flush against him.

“Art thou petitioning for such tasks?”

Lancelot’s warm breath ghosted across Harry’s lips. “Art thou seeking to fill the position?”

“Oh, ay,” Harry moaned as he lifted his mouth to accept Lancelot’s kiss. His lips were soft and firm against Harry’s, his strong tongue pushing into Harry’s mouth to taste Harry. Harry moaned as he let his hands slide through the blonde silk. Harry missed the _thunk_ of his drink hitting the carpet, but he did not miss the slither of fabric sliding to the floor. As the large, rough hands slid over Harry’s torso, flicking at his sensitive nipples, Harry pulled at the knight’s belt and let it fall to the floor, the sound muffled by Harry’s housecoat. Harry pressed the man back until they were stopped by Harry’s bed. Lancelot turned them around, and Harry dropped to the bed, breaking their kiss. Lancelot’s grey eyes were dark with passion as he reached down to pull his boots off. Harry reached out and pressed a palm to the man’s obvious arousal, and the knight moaned his approval. Harry licked his lips. “Tomorrow, I shalt taste thee. I shalt wrap my lips around thine engorged cock and suck on thee until thou screamest and fillest mine mouth with thy seed.”

“Thou hast quite a mouth, Merlin,” Lancelot said as he pushed Harry down and moved to straddle him, rubbing their cloth covered cocks together. “I look forward to seeing what thou canst do with it.” 

A shiver raced down Harry’s spine as Lancelot lowered himself to press Harry into the down filled mattress. Hot lips moved down Harry’s neck, and he gasped at the long remembered sensation. He almost forgot why it had been so long since he’d done this. He let his hands run down the muscular back and slip under the fabric of Lancelot’s tights, cupping the firm arse and pressing him down. Lancelot moaned against Harry’s neck, and Harry pushed the tight fabric down the hard thighs. Between awkward maneuvering, heated kisses, and sweaty hands, they eventually lay on Harry’s bed naked and pressing against each other. Harry reached out to grab the jar of lubricant and pressed it into Lancelot’s hand. He grabbed it, and Harry was in heaven. Sometime later, with Harry’s legs wrapped around Lancelot’s waist and his belly covered in his own release, Lancelot shuddered above him with a groan.

“Oh, Merlin.”


	8. Chapter 7

Somehow Harry stayed busy, and one year faded into the next. Lance was a gracious and gentle lover, and Harry made sure to be at the castle when Arthur and the knights returned from a campaign. Lance often spoke of his father’s lands in France that he hoped to someday reclaim and occasionally he would try to tease bits of Harry’s past from him, but Harry stayed resolutely close-mouthed. Harry did not fall in love with the stately knight, and Lancelot often mumbled how nice it was to have a warm body but never mentioned, nor gave any indication, of deeper feelings. Merlin was quickly becoming a big name in the wizarding world as well. After the initial scene in the pub, Harry would not hesitate to call out those who were caught hexing, cursing, or jinxing muggles. He fought for laws regarding the muggle’s safety with the backing of several large pureblood families. Members of said families soon came to him for any type of muggle relations, and one man with bright red hair and a face covered in freckles hinted at some sort of muggle protection squad, “like the Knights of the Round Table, Mr. Merlin. Only for muggles. Name’s Bilius. Bilius Weasley, by the way.” Harry laughed, and put Bilius in charge of the newly constructed Order of Merlin. No one ever asked Harry’s blood status, and he did not offer the information.

In between sex and bouts of “muggle do-goodery,” Harry made time to return to Enez-Sun and continue the education of the founders and other students. Occasionally Nimue would return with him, but she soon admitted it was harder and harder to return to Harry’s world, so her trips became limited. Harry liked the friendship he was forming with the young lady, enjoyed watching her come into her own. She was turning out to be almost as good a healer as Morgana, had a way with the knights, though she never crossed a line, and was a brave and strong woman. Harry took her on a trip to the Orient, and they recorded their journeys and observations in their journals. Harry soon learned the girl had a sense of humor that could rival the twins' at times. Her favorite joke was to charm his journals so that his writing looked like some unknown runic language. He quickly learned that by flipping the book open from the back and reading the runes upside down he could undo the spell. He did not tell her he had caught on, though after several years he thought she must have realized he had figured it out and continued to do it simply to annoy him.

Harry was only called to the battlefield twice during Arthur’s campaigns. Kit had used the medallion once when Arthur had been badly wounded, and it had taken the combined skills of Harry and Nimue to get the king patched up. The second time he was summoned by Arthur when one of his loyal knights had lost his protective medallion in the battle, and his hand had been completely severed off. There was little Harry could do for the man other than to seal the wound and dose him with pain potions. They took him to Enez-Sun for several months until he was able to function without agonizing pain. He rejoined Arthur’s retinue before they made it back home. 

It happened one evening when Harry and Nimue were in his quarters researching for a spell she wanted to create. They were sat at his desk, one on either side, books spread out between them when her entire body seemed to jerk straight up. Harry looked up in surprise to see Nimue’s violet eyes almost an ebony black, her entire body tense.

“Nimy?” When she didn’t respond he shot from his chair and rounded the desk. He knelt beside her chair and laid a hand on her bare arm. He jerked back and looked down to make sure her arm wasn’t the block of ice it had felt like. “Nimy, love.” She didn’t respond again and, knowing Morgana and Gawain were still in the castle, Harry sent a patronus asking her to come to his chambers immediately. “Nimy. Sweetie. Speak to me.” Her eyes remained wide open, and her skin was still almost frozen to the touch. He summoned the heavy deerskin from his bed and wrapped it around her cold body. He murmured soothing words not knowing if she heard him or not. It was several minutes later when a shudder seemed to wrack her body, and she slumped over into his arms. Harry pulled her from the chair and got her to the floor. Her eyes were closed now, and he pushed her dark curls from her forehead. “Come on, Nimy. Wake up, sweetie.” Harry looked up as his chamber door swung open and a ragged looking Morgana flew into the room. She saw them on the floor and raced over, dropping to her knees when she reached them.

“What happened, Merlin?”

He shook his head. “I know not. We were sitting here studying when she went utterly still. Her eyes were black as Sn-” He blinked back the memory of dark ebony eyes from so long ago. “Black as night, and she was ice cold to the touch. After several minutes she simply slumped over.”

Morgana’s lips thinned into a tight line. “She has had a vision then. Viviane did the same thing in the beginning.”

Harry blinked at the witch. “Who?”

“The Lady of the Lake. She was known as Viviane in her youth.” There was a soft moan, and they looked down to watch as Nimue’s eyes fluttered open. Harry was glad to see they were once again their natural violet hue. They focused on Harry.

“It is time,” she said softly before her eyes closed again. He looked up at Morgana.

“She will sleep now. Visions always tired Viviane out when she was in the mortal world. We should put her to bed.”

Harry nodded, and Morgana stood, pulling out her wand to levitate the girl. “Place her in my bed. I will remove myself to Lance’s room for the night.” Morgana nodded, and they settled Nimue into Harry’s bed.

“What did she mean, Merlin?”

Harry felt his own lips tighten. “When Lady Avalon asked me to take Nimue on, she told me that Nimue would take over as The Lady of the Lake in twenty years. At that time she informed me I had less than that amount of time here.”

Morgana gasped and laid a hand on Harry’s arm. “Art thou… dying, Merlin?”

Harry laughed. “No, Morgana. I am going home. I still have unfinished business to attend to.”

“Home?” the witch questioned, and Harry furrowed his brows.

“After all this time, Morgana, thou hast not figured it out?” She shook her head. “I am no Seer, Morgana, but I knew Arthur would one day be king. I knew he would marry Lady Guinevere. I knew he would be the greatest king Britain hath ever seen, and I have not been wrong, have I?” Another shake of her dark hair. “Morgana, I am from the future.” He held his wand up. “I cast a spell to find the greatest wizard of all time’s wand.”

“But... thou art the greatest wizard ever, Merlin.”

He waved the wand in front of her. “Thou seest my conundrum. I cast a spell to seek myself.” He curled his lips in an ironic smile. “Twenty years, Morgana. It has taken me twenty years to find my way home.”

“Oh, Merlin,” She startled him by throwing her arms around his neck, and weeping into his shoulder. He patted her back gently.

“‘Tis fine, Morgana. I am ready. I have long since stopped missing my friends, though now the prospect of seeing them brings them to mind once more. I have no idea how long I have been gone from their world. There are many books written of King Arthur and his court,” he pulled back and smirked at her, “Thou wilt be pleased to know thou art my greatest enemy.”

“Oh, thou infuriating fool,” she hit his shoulder.

“Ay. See how accurate they are?” he teased. He gave a soft sigh. “I knew only the basics of Arthur and Merlin’s stories, but I know many of the tales of how Merlin awaiteth the return of Arthur to free him from his tomb.”

Morgana gave him an odd look. “But the king is not immortal, nor wizard. He is but a man.”

Harry nodded. “Ay, but thou seest: my foster father’s name is Arthur.” She gasped, and he smiled softly at her. “Ay. Thou seest what I have known for some time. We were seeking Merlin’s tomb when I disappeared. I don’t imagine much time will have passed when I return.” He glanced over out the moonlit window. “‘Twill be odd. I shall be twenty years older whilst the others remain the same.”

“Thou wast ever an old soul, Merlin.” He nodded and pressed a kiss to Morgana’s head.

“Thou shouldst return to thy husband, and I will retire to Lance’s room.”

“Wilt thou tell him?”

Harry shook his head. “Nay. Only that my time cometh, and I am leaving.” She nodded, and they left Harry’s room, closing the door softly behind them. “Good night, Morgana.”

“Good night, Merlin.”

 

Harry didn’t tell Lance that night and gave no indication anything was wrong. The following day, when Nimue was recovered, they talked about her vision. She was shown where they were to go and knew they were to do the ritual in two months time at the full moon. Harry felt a sadness fill him and knew it was time to talk to Arthur and Ambrosius when the king kept giving him odd looks. He asked for a private word a week after Nimue’s vision, and the three met in the king’s quarters, whiskey in hand. Harry sat in his usual chair, bent over, elbows resting on his knees, drink dangling from his fingers. The others waited for him to speak, knowing what he had to say was more important than any small talk they might make.

“I have never had friends as great as ye,” he said into his tumbler. Ron had been right all those years ago when he had spoken about the complexity of emotions. “But try as ye may, I have never revealed my greatest secret. ‘Tis time I do so.” He looked up into brown and blue eyes that were so familiar to him. “Ye hath seen some of the things magic is capable of, so perhaps ye will not find my tale as unbelievable as some might. I must ask, that what we speak of tonight goes no further than us.” Both men nodded sagely. “Ye hath often asked how I know things when I claim not to be a Seer. I knew that a young man would pull the sword from the stone and become king.” He lifted his glass towards Arthur, and the king gave a weak smile. “I knew his name was Arthur, and that he would be Britain’s greatest king. Those were the facts I knew, everything else was speculation. What we knew of King Arthur was guesses, stories put together by half formed songs and barely legible scripts. The people in this age would rather speak of exaggerated feats rather than record a proper history.” He gave Ambrosius a teasing smile, and the man smiled oddly back. “The truth is, the reason I have evaded your questions about my past is simply that ye would not understand. I am from over a thousand years in the future.” Both men blinked at him for several minutes before Ambrosius nodded.

“I thought it must be something like that.” Harry gaped at him, then let out a loud laugh.

“Then how gettest thou here?” Arthur said as he took a sip of his drink.

Harry laughed. “Because I was a brash, stupid youth. In my time we are fighting a great and evil wizard. He believeth those without magic are beneath him and seeketh to rid the world of all those that are not his equal. Before I was born, there was a prophecy that a child born as the seventh month dies would be the one to destroy this monster. There was more to the prophecy as there always is, but suffice it to say, that I drew the short stick.” Harry waved a hand over his brow, bringing forth the scar he had kept hidden for so long. “He marked me when I was but a babe. Since then I have survived no less than seven attempts on my life directly from him. When we discovered he was in search of Merlin’s wand we began our own research. My friends and mentors. We call ourselves the Order of the Phoenix, and we fight on the side of the Light. My friend, one of my closest friends, hath always been bookish,” he smiled once more at Ambrosius. “She designeth this spell that would allow us to contact Merlin from the grave to find his burial place. We had not tested it as it was a complicated ritual, but I felt time runneth out. See, I was never a very patient person, forever running headlong into danger. If I could but save one, ‘twas worth it. She called it my ‘saving people thing.’ So I decided to do the spell myself; I do not even remember why I thought I had to be the one to do it. But I did it, and I woke up here, in your time.” Harry took a sip of his drink and stared into the fire.

“Thou art leaving.” Harry looked up at Arthur’s voice. “Thou art going back to thine own time. Thou hast found the way home. That’s why thou tellest us now.”

It wasn’t a question, but Harry nodded. “Ay. Nimue was sent to help me when the time was right. I must leave in just over a month.” Once again Harry stared into the fire and swallowed nervously. “Arthur, I must ask thee to remember what the Lady of the Lake told thee.”

“My sword. Thou hast need of it?” Harry nodded.

“I believe so. The dark wizard, he hath a rather large snake. Well, suffice it to say, I must destroy the snake before I can kill him. I think Excalibur is the only thing that can do that.”

“Ex- what?”

Harry smiled at the confused king. “Excalibur. It is what the tales calleth thy sword.”

“It shall be thine, Merlin. I will see it is returned to the Lady.” A thoughtful look came over Arthur’s face. “In the meantime,” He rose and crossed the room to where his sword and scabbard hung. He withdrew the sword and laid it aside before grabbing the scabbard and crossing back to the chairs. He held the scabbard out towards Harry. “A gift. A reminder of our friendship.”

Harry blinked back the moisture in his eyes. “Arthur.”

“Nay, Merlin,” he said, holding a hand up. “I’ll hear nay more on the subject.” Harry swallowed and nodded, the room fell silent once more.

“What is thy true name then?” Ambrosius said carefully.

Harry looked down at his glass, wondering if he could still say it after all these years. “Harry. Harry James Potter.”

“To Harry,” Arthur said, raising his glass. Harry felt himself blush at Ambrosius’s “Hear, hear.”

The rest of the evening was spent in sober reminiscence as the three men honored their friendship.

 

For Harry, the next month moved too quickly. He finally told Lance he was leaving for good and wished the man godspeed in his endeavors. He visited with the Order of Merlin and gave them an inspiring speech, promising to return some day, during their darkest hour. He stopped by Gringotts and stepped into the goblin’s office. Gringott looked up.

“Mr. Merlin, how art thou this fine day?”

Harry gave him a weak smile. “I am well, Gringott. I simply wished to stop by and tell thee that I have enjoyed our business together, and wish thee success in all thy future endeavors. And,” Harry paused and made a quick decision. He reached into the small pouch and summoned a slip of paper and laid it on the familiar desk, “One more thing, Mr. Gringott. Tell thine descendants: Diagon Alley.” The goblin eyed him for a minute, seemingly not noticing the paper.

“Thou truly wilt not be returning then?” Harry shook his head and the goblin reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small key. He held it up to Harry. “Take it. For thine own… descendants.”

Harry took the key and slipped it into the small pouch that still hung from his belt after all these years. “Take care, Gringott.”

“Thee as well, Merlin.”

 

They arrived at Enez-Sun a week before the full moon and spent a few days in the beautiful city. Harry spoke to Alexandria, Cecilia, and the others he had made friends with over the years. He wished Sal and Rosalee good luck in their future marriage, reminded Godric that the goblins made the best swords, told Rowena that she would make an excellent teacher someday, and kissed Helga soundly on the cheek. Before he knew it, it was time to leave. He visited Lady Avalon one last time and thanked her for her guidance over the years and told her her daughter had grown to be a beautiful woman. And then it was time to go.

They apparated to the area that would one day be called Scotland and studied the caves and surrounding area. They both seemed to head towards the same cave, and Harry gave Nimue an ironic smile.

“Guess this is it.”

She nodded. “And thy friends wilt find thee?”

Harry nodded as he pressed a hand against the magic warmed stone. “Ay. My foster father is named Arthur, and his eldest son is William Arthur. Their youngest son is my best mate and an exceptional tactician. They will find me when the time is right.”

She eyed him, and he had no doubt that somehow he would be awoken at the right time, even if she had to do it herself. He grinned at her and turned towards the cave entrance. He pulled his wand out and began muttering the incantations he had studied years ago. Muggle-repelling, confunding charms, everything short of an actual  _ Fidelius _ . Only a very powerful witch or wizard would be able to locate the opening once he was done, and he remembered Hermione mentioning that they would probably need a power-enhancing charm to detect Merlin’s tomb. He smirked. Oh, how right she was. When Harry was done with the intricate spells, they ate the small tea Alexandria had sent with them. Once they had eaten, they gathered their things and stepped into the dark cave. Nimue cast a  _ Lumos _ lighting the interior of the cave. It was larger than the outside suggested, and Harry began placing small torches on the cavern walls and charming them.

“They will light the way for any that crosseth them. Shall we explore my new home?”

Nimue rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Lead the way, oh great Merlin.” He narrowed his eyes at her mocking tone.

“Thou ought showest more respect for thine elders.”

She tilted her head. “I would, wert thou mine elder. Now walkest thee.”

Harry shook his head, and they headed deeper into the cave, following its twists and turns until it came to a dead end. “Well, that is disappointing,” Harry said.

Nimue chewed at her bottom lip as she studied the blank wall. “I could have sworn…” 

Harry leaned against the wall wondering what they were to do now. He felt something tickle at his calf, and looked down to see nothing but the stone wall. He pushed away, and turned to study it as well. He noticed a small crack just where he had been standing, and leaned in for a closer look. He reared back in shock when he felt a wisp of wind on his face. “Oh.”

Nimue was immediately by his side. “What?”

“I felt air. Hold on, I’m going to cast a far-seeing spell.” He slipped the tip of his wand into the crack, cast a  _ lumos, _ and then the incantation that would allow him to see if there was anything on the other side of the wall. He stepped back as the wall in front of them shimmered, and the image of a large, hollowed-out air pocket in the middle of the bedrock came into focus. Nimue grabbed his arm excitedly.

“This is it, Merlin. We shall have to make a doorway, but ‘tis perfect.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Alright, Nimy, standest back, wand ready.” She nodded and stepped back with her wand held out in case the cavern decided not to agree with Harry’s tampering. The doorway was barely large enough for them to fit through. Nimue cast another  _ Lumos  _ when they stepped through, and Harry set about putting up more torches. “We can bed down in the cave for the night, and I shall start on the enchantments in the morn.”

She nodded, and Harry stepped back into the main cave and grabbed several stones. He stepped back into the cavern room and transfigured three of the stones into a table and chairs. Nimue set about pulling their dinner from the shrunken basket in her bag while Harry set to creating a dais that would hold his casket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, unrolled it, and placed the small sliver of glass on the dais. He could have easily transfigured a glass casket out of another stone, but the pure glass would hold the enchantments better; they didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. By the time he had his “tomb” ready, Nimue had a nice dinner laid out. Harry settled at the table across from her, and they ate in silence.

“Can we not sleep in here tonight, Merlin? I have no wish to camp in thy tomb.”

He gave her an understanding smile, and they made their way back to the large entrance. Harry stepped outside the cave and gathered up several logs and rocks; taking them back inside he built a small fire pit and lit it with an Incendio. Nimue had built up deerskin pallets for them, and they settled down for the night. Harry was surprised at how easily he fell to sleep.

Harry awoke the next morning to the smell of boar meat and eggs. He blinked awake and sat up to see Nimue kneeling by the fire, a pan floating over the flames.

“Fattening the lamb for slaughter, Nimue?”

She turned to glare at him. “‘Twould take more than Boar and eggs to fatten thee, Merlin.”

Harry laughed and pushed the deerskin back. “Anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head as the food flew to land on two pieces of bread. She floated one over to Harry and sat back with her own, each finishing quickly. As soon as they were done, Harry picked up his pallet from the night before, and they headed back to the hollowed out cavern. They stopped at the doorway Harry had created the night before. “If they make it past the enchantments, I will need to make sure they cannot get through the door unless they be a member of the Order.” Ideas ran through his mind, and, with a smirk, he settled on the appropriate charms. White, blue, and gold light shined around the doorway as he worked. It took almost three hours for him to get the charms right, but he finally stepped back with a sigh. 

Nimue struggled to her feet from where she had settled to the floor when he’d first begun.“‘Tis done?”

He nodded and summoned a small stone. They watched as he tossed it towards the enchanted entrance, and Nimue jerked in shock as the stone obliterated before it could sail into the room beyond. Harry nodded and stepped forward. He placed his wand against the letters now etched into the stone and watched as they turned a bright white, then a steady blue, before the shield in front of the door glowed a soft gold and dropped like a curtain from the doorway. He turned to Nimue. “Once thou leavest, thou wilt be unable to returneth without me. After ‘tis done, thou must enchantest the door to reveal only to those with Light magic. Thou knowest the spell?” She nodded, and he motioned for her to enter.

They stepped over to the table. Harry pulled the small bag from his belt, placed it on the table, and pulled it open to summon his trunk from its depths. He then placed the trunk near the foot of the stairs of the dais and enlarged it. Harry placed the deerskin inside the coffin before he set about adding similar enchantments to the coffin that he had done on the door with a few changes. Since these weren’t as intricate as the doorway had been, he was done in just over an hour.

“Come eat, Merlin,” Nimue called from the table, and he went to join her for more boar and bread. After their meal the two set about adding enchantments around the interior of the cavern to protect it from the elements and other outside forces. They repeated the process for the outer cavern as well, and by the time they finished both were ravenously hungry. Once again, Nimue produced an excellent meal from Alexandria’s basket. Harry settled at the table with a broad grin. “My last meal, eh.”

“Hush thy mouth, Merlin.”

He chuckled and dug into the food. Harry had tried not to think about what was happening, but now it was inevitable. He was leaving a life he had known for longer than he had known his previous life. Leaving friends he had known longer than anyone he had known before. And he had expected to feel an empty sort of longing, but there was only the feeling that he was done. As if he had had a job to do and was now done with it. There was a finality to this chapter of his life, and there was a sense of peace in his mind and heart; an acceptance that he had never had with anything previous in his life. He would miss Arthur, Ambrosius, Morgana, and the other friends he had made during his time here. 

“You’ll tell Arthur to make sure the sword gets back to Avalon? And tell Morgana-”

“Merlin!” He looked up at Nimue’s understanding smile. “I know what needs to be done more than thou dost. Trust me.” He sighed and smiled.

“I do, Nimy. It has always been hard for me to allow others to take care of things.” She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed it gently.

“The moon will be up soon. Wishest thou to wash in the river beforehand?”

Harry smirked at her. “Ay. ‘Twill be bad enough that I must wait a thousand years for another bath.” She laughed, and he moved over to his trunk and pulled out clean leggings and robe. “I will return anon.” She nodded, and set to cleaning up while he made his way down the cave and outside into the evening air. He found a small inlet and charmed the water warm before stripping and stepping in. He sat in the warm water and let the memories from his previous and future life wash over him. Oh, how young and foolish he had been. How wonderful his friends had been. The many people that had cared for him. Molly’s warm hugs, Kingsley’s strong voice, Tonks’s cheerful laughter. Memories and longing that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for years washed over him. A sudden determination to return home filled him, and he stepped from the warm water and dried himself off before pulling his tights and robe on. 

He made his way back through the cave glad to see his charmed torches were working. He placed his wand on the doorway and waited for the shield to drop before stepping through. Nimue stood at the table, several vials sat out. Harry tossed his clothes into his trunk as well as the small bag that had kept him in memories of his past for so long while Nimue grabbed up the vials and joined him. She held each one up to show him before placing them on top of his discarded clothes.

“Rejuvenating serum… Potente Nutrient potion… Blood Rejuvenating draught, just in case… Muscle balm, apply as quickly as possible. Thy magic will only keep thee on thy feet for so long. No amount of stasis charm will preserve food that long, so thou must return to Enez-Sun as quickly as possible in case of complications and food.”

Harry smiled at her. “Thou just wishest to see me. Thou wilt miss me.”

She snorted, and pushed herself to her feet. “Findest thee an oak tree, Merlin. ‘Twill help renew thy strength.” He nodded, and took a deep breath, looking into the trunk where the vials of potions rested beside Hermione’s bag on top of his robe. Past, present, and future converging in one small space.

“I suppose this is it then.” He reached over and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thou hadst best come seest me, Merlin,” Nimue said, her voice sounding choked. 

Harry nodded as he pulled back and closed the lid of his trunk, casting his own personal locking and protection charms on it. No one but him would be able to open it. He took a deep breath and levitated himself to the glass casket. He sat down, arranging his robes comfortably around him. He looked up at Nimue who had stepped up on the dais.

“Make sure my scar is visible before thou addest the shield over the casket. They won’t recognize me otherwise.” She nodded and held out the vial of relaxing potion. Harry took it, and popped the cork. He made a Cheers motion and downed the contents. He handed it back to her and immediately began to feel his body relax. He lay back, positioning his wand and hands on his chest. No one would be able to get the wand without waking him. He closed his eyes, and a smile flittered across his face.

“Hey, Nimue, I’m Sleeping Beauty. Now I just have to wait for my prince to wake me with True Love’s kiss.”

He heard a familiar snort. “I have no idea what thou speakest, Merlin, but if we must wait for True Love’s kiss, what be the point of this fruitless endeavor?”

“I thought you liked me, Nimy. I’m hurt,” he added in a soft teasing tone as he felt himself being pulled into the deep sleep that would allow her to cast the required spells over him. 

The last thing he heard was Nimue’s broken whisper. 

“Oh, Merlin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for Harry's time in the past. I hope you enjoyed it as much as he did ;) I tried to fit as many different references to King Arthur and Merlin as I could so hopefully I didn't do a horrible job. Next up, for my oh, so patient readers, the return of Severus.


	9. Part 2: Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry. I almost forgot to update. I was in the middle of working on another fic and forgot what day it was. Anyway, here's Snape (finally!) and he's a tad confused.

**Part II**

 

Severus wiped the laughter-induced tears from his pale cheeks and pushed himself to his knees. The man was clearly much older than the last time Severus had seen him. He had grown a foot or so,  had put on some weight and muscle, but the dark, untameable hair was still there, as was the tell-tale scar and silly glasses. The wand he clutched was not the white of the elder wood but a light oak color, and Severus wondered what had happened to the Elder wand. He could see the shimmer of magic that acted as a coffin lid and, yes, there. The barely perceptible movement of chest indicating breathing. Holy fuck! Potter had been sleeping in this cave for over a thousand years, waiting to be awoken. His mother’s voice echoed in his head reminding him of a story from his childhood. Severus scoffed. 

“I am not kissing you, Potter. You’ll just have to bloody well wake up some other way.” He wondered how he was to accomplish that. Potter was never very original, and Severus thought what worked once might work again. After all, not just anyone would have been able to get this far. Severus, wand gripped in place with his thumb, laid his hand and wand,  palm flat against the glass coffin,  some deep, indescribable emotion deep in his chest . He felt a thrill shoot through him as the familiar white light engulfed the coffin and fade to a soft blue. The shield over top burned bright gold for a second before fading away completely. Severus stepped back  quickly , wand back at the ready in case Potter still thought him an enemy, and waited  with nearly bated breath . Nothing happened. Severus  cautiously leaned forward  to look into the coffin to see Potter still sleeping.  _ Well, damn. Now what? _ Severus pointed his wand at the man. “Enervate.” Nothing. “Finite Incantatem.” Nothing.  _ Fuck _ . Okay, Potter probably expected Weasley or Granger to find him. If he were Granger (because he would never deign imagine himself a Weasley--not even in his nightmares), what would he do upon finding his dearest, well, second dearest (if the rumors were true) friend in a glass casket?  _ Still not kissing you, Potter _ . Severus’s eyes widened.  _ Really? That simple? _ Severus,  realizing he had relaxed his hand, once again gripped his wand and reached out with his other hand slowly. His fingers slid over the warm skin of Potter’s hand, lingering over the surprising roughness. Severus tore his gaze away from the tanned hand and glanced at Potter’s face. His eyeballs seemed to roll around behind his lids before the dark lashes fluttered open. Severus gaped at the green eyes he hadn’t seen in three years and pushed back the initial feeling of relief. He wasn’t sure if he should feel relief just yet. Potter’s plump lips turned up into a smile.

“ Good day , Professor.” Severus jerked back, pulling his hand from Potter’s, and holding his wand  protectively  between them. Potter rolled his eyes. “Forsooth, Professor. Thou shouldst realizest by now thy wand is nay match for me.” Severus blinked at the odd words as Potter pulled himself to a sitting position. “Wouldst thou help me? I am afraid ‘twould do more harm than good were I to attempt magic right now.”

It wasn’t until the man held his arms out like a child asking to be picked up that Severus understood his meaning. He stepped back over to Potter and was lifting him from the casket before he realized he could have levitated the man out. Potter leaned against him as he steadied his feet beneath him. Potter shook his head.

“I am afraid this will not work. Perchance thou couldst aidest me to my trunk.” Potter indicated the trunk, and Severus helped him down the stairs wondering what the hell was going on and what question to ask first. They made it to the trunk, and Potter lowered himself. “Thank thee.” Severus watched as Potter pressed his hand against the trunk and muttered under his breath. The trunk popped open to reveal a small handbag and several vials of potion. Potter picked one up and uncorked it.

“Don’t drink that,” Severus demanded as Potter raised the vial to his lips. Potter glanced at him and downed it anyway. “Stupid boy, that has probably turned by now. You’ll be dead in minutes. And after everything I did to get here.”

Potter chuckled and picked up the second vial. “Firstly, I cast the stasis charm myself. ‘Twas well preserved. Secondly, I have not been a boy in many years, Professor.” He downed the second vial and turned wide, green eyes on Severus. “I imagine we are of a similar age now.” Potter picked up the third vial, glanced at it as if trying to determine what it was and shrugged before downing it as well. Potter closed his eyes with a soft sigh and leaned his head back for a long minute. His eyes finally popped open, and he gave a terse nod before grabbing the last, largest vial and pulling himself to his feet. “Thou awakest me, Professor. Thank thee,” he said as he made his way over to the stone table and chairs. “Quite honestly, I was expecting the senior Weasley or William.” Severus gaped at the man as he pulled his robe over his head. “Arthur and all that,” he added with a smile.

“Yes, well, you don’t know everything, now do you?”  Severus snapped.

Potter smiled that familiar cheeky grin. “That’s what I tried to tell them.” Potter’s brow furrowed as he tossed the robe over the back of a chair, and Severus couldn’t help but appreciate the hardened muscles that were revealed. Potter uncorked the last vial and poured some of its contents into his hand. He began rubbing the liniment over his arms and chest, making the sun-kissed skin glow in the candlelight. “I do wonder how thou wast able to awakest me though. I clearly remember the legend saying that Merlin was awaiting the return of Arthur.”

Severus made a mocking bow. “I am sorry to admit that I am as close to a ‘King Arthur’ as you are likely to get. Severus Arthur Snape at your service.”

Potter’s eyes widened in surprise, and a loud guffaw echoed around the chamber. “Hey-ho!  Good as the best. Absolutely stunning. And I imagine thou art the only Death Eater with claim to that particular moniker.”

Severus sighed and nodded. “I am.”

“How fortuitous for me it were not Lucius Arthur Malfoy or Vincent Arthur Crabbe. Though if memory serves I would have little problems besting that one. Even after my thousand plus year nap.”

Severus growled in frustration. “And what makes you so sure you can trust me?”

Potter motioned towards the door. “Thou madest it through mine enchantments, didst thou not? I established a very specific set of requirements, Professor. Didst thou not readest the door?” Potter reached for the hem of the tight leggings Severus had absolutely not noticed the man wearing. When the man made to push them down Severus let out a squawk of alarm.

“Potter, what are you doing?” The man ignored him and pushed the fabric down, revealing toned thighs, taut arse, and- sweet Merlin! No wonder Lily had married the prat. “Merlin, Potter.”

The man looked up. “What?”

“Put your clothes back on,” Severus said, turning his head so he wasn’t caught looking.

“I apologize, Professor, but I must administer the salve as quickly as possible. Thou art free to leavest me now that thou hast done thy duty.”

“Thy-” Severus jerked his head back to face the man, which was a mistake, because Potter had removed the boots he’d worn along with the tights and now stood completely naked. One foot propped in the chair as he applied the licentious oil to his thigh, fingers digging into the hard muscles. Severus barely pulled his eyes away before he was caught staring. The man had probably picked up any number of venereal diseases from the whores at the famous Camelot, Severus vehemently told himself. “I am not leaving until I have answers.”

“Very well, Professor. Thou mayest accompany me on mine errands.”

Severus snorted and glanced at the man from the corner of his eye, disappointment seeping through him as Potter pulled the tights up to cover his well-oiled skin. “And what kind of ‘errands’ do you have, Potter?”

“I need to find an oak tree. Then we must visit Sherwood forest.”

Severus turned to face Potter as he pulled his robe over his head. “A nature hike, Potter? You do realize we are still in the middle of a war?”

Green eyes blinked at him. “Ay. ‘Tis why I must get to Enez-Sun. Wilt thou accompaniest me or nay?”

As if he would miss what happened next. “What the hell exactly happened, Potter?”

The man blinked at him as if trying to figure out what language Severus was speaking. “Thou and Draco sent the historians to us, nay?”

“Nay-’ Severus shook his head. “Yes. At least you figured _that_ out.”

Potter smiled and moved over to kneel at the trunk. He pulled the small coin bag out and dropped the oil vial in the trunk before closing and shrinking it. “We figured out Voldemort was looking for Merlin’s wand.” Severus bit his tongue from saying something brash as Potter summoned the shrunken trunk and dropped it into the bag. He stuffed the bag into his pocket. It wasn’t until Potter’s wand came soaring into his outstretched hand that Severus realized he had been using wandless magic. Potter had continued to speak as Severus observed all this , his words careful as though trying to remember a foreign language . “Hermione found a spell that was supposed to help us contact Merlin so that we might ask him the whereabouts of his wand or at least his grave.” Potter pushed himself to his feet and waved his wand around the cavern. Severus felt the rush of magic as wards he had barely even felt began to wash away. “So naturally, brash youth that I was, I decided to attempt the spell myself.” Another wave and the table, chairs, dais, and coffin disappeared, leaving pebbles as the only reminder that anything had been there. Potter moved over to where the dais had been and picked up a sliver of glass. He stuffed it into his pocket and motioned towards the door. Without thinking, Severus stepped through, and Potter followed. The letters flared to life right to left as Potter stepped through, and Severus rolled his eyes at the simplicity of the message. Only Potter. “When I awoke, I was in the year 598. Needless to say, I was a bit stunned by such a revelation and said the first thing that came to mind.” Potter waved his wand at the door, and Severus felt the enchantments crumble beneath Potter’s dismantling spell. “That was a lot harder to put up.”

“Put up,” Severus echoed. “Then… you did this to yourself? Nimue didn’t trap you in here?”

Potter glanced at him. “Nimy?” He let out what could only be termed a scoff. “Nimy was not powerful enough to do this. Though she hath placeth the final charms on me. There. All done.” He turned to grin at Severus. “That ought doeth well, nay?’

Severus growled at the man. “Why Merlin?”

“Oh, well, like I said, I was a bit distracted when I found out what year it was, and since ‘Merlin’ is such a commonly used expletive…” Potter shrugged and cast a sheepish glance at Severus. They continued towards the cave entrance. 

“You mean to tell me, you truly are the real Merlin? The most powerful wizard to ever walk the planet.”

Potter shrugged as they stepped out of the cave and blinked into the night air. “How long was I gone?”

“A month, if rumor is to be believed. How long were you there?” 

“Twenty years,” he said sounding distracted as he moved forward. Severus watched as Potter dropped to his knees and placed his wand hand on a nearby tree. His other hand was placed palm down on the ground. The dark head was thrown back. “Mother Earth, Brother Oak, prithee, restore my strength.” Severus started as a wind seemed to come from nowhere and rustle the leaves of the tree Potter was leaning against. Severus stepped back as Potter began to emit a soft glow that started at his wand hand and traveled down his arm and over his body. A flash of soft blue and the forest was once more dark. Potter stood and took a deep breath. All at once, Severus had no doubt that this powerful man that stood before him was the greatest wizard to ever walk the British Isles. He turned to Severus and beamed.

“Well, I feel better. I did not realize thousand-year naps could be so draining. Dost thou hunger? I feel as if I have not eaten in a-”

Severus held a hand up. “Do not say it, Potter.” The man’s lips twitched.

“Very well, Professor. Have I answered all thy questions sufficiently or wilt thou not attendest me?”

Severus ran a hand over his face. “Dear Merlin, Potter, speak English.”

He was gratified to see a blush steal over the man’s cheeks. “I apologize, Professor. I forget. Also, thou- you only need to use one of my names. I will answer to either.”

Severus looked at the man in confusion. “Wha- oh, hell.” Potter held out his hand, and Severus eyed it warily. “What?”

“‘Twill be quicker to Apparate, and I know where we are going.”

Severus supposed he was going to have to trust the man; he hadn’t, after all, killed Severus yet. He reached out and took the proffered hand. A moment later he was being pulled through a familiar void. They landed in a small clearing, and Potter paused to look around.

“Tell me you have not taken us to the wrong place,” Severus sneered.

“Hm? No. ‘Tis the correct spot. It hath-  _ has  _ changed though.” He pointed to a pair of trees as if pointing out something and moved forward. “I don’t suppose the brotherhood still visits the forest anymore. Well, come  along .” Severus looked at the man as if he had lost his mind. Potter moved over to the trees and promptly disappeared through them. Severus raced over to the narrow opening.

“Potter!”

The man reappeared with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Forgot.” He waved his wand between the trees and a film of gold, much like the one back in the cave, appeared. “Voila. Come along. They are waiting.”

Who was waiting? But before he could get the words out of his mouth, Potter had disappeared again. Severus sighed. He had never done so many Gryffindorish things in one day before. He stepped into the unknown gold shield to Merlin-only-knew-where and laughed at the irony of it all. He blinked at the bright sunlight that shone down on them. He grabbed at Potter’s arm, feeling the hard muscles underneath his hand.

“Potter. Where are we?”

Green eyes blinked at him. “Enez-Sun. Home of the Gallizenae, the virgin priestesses of Ile de Sein and what is left of the Druids of Sherwood. Come. They are waiting.”

“You said that before,” Severus growled as he followed Potter across the open green field, a large building surrounded by smaller buildings off in the distance. “Who are ‘they’?”

Potter glanced over at him. “I told thee. The Gallizenae.” They walked for several minutes before he could see a large lake shimmering beside a verdant forest. They walked on, and Severus could tell Potter was heading towards the lake. He snorted.

“Going to see the Lady in the Lake, Potter? That’s taking the myth a little too far, isn’t it?”

He could practically see Potter roll his eyes. “Learnest thou not that all myths are based on some semblance of fact?”

Severus opened his mouth to give a scathing retort, but movement caught his eye; he saw a figure dressed in white running towards them. He held his wand at the ready and glanced over at Potter to see what the man would do. When he didn’t make to pull his wand, Severus wondered if Potter had lost his battle instincts. They were in some strange land and an unknown figure was racing towards them. The whole scenario reeked of danger, even in the bright sunlight. Perhaps not so unknown, then, Severus thought as a smile broke out on Potter’s face. Severus watched as the figure revealed itself to be a young woman, and she came barreling towards them, arms outstretched. 

“Merlin!” she cried as Potter let out another hearty laugh and caught her around the waist, lifting her in a bear hug.

“Cecilia, love! How art thou?”

“Thou camest back.”

“I said I would. Thou agest not a single day,” he said, as he placed the woman back on the ground. She slapped at his shoulder.

“Neither hast thou, thou scoundrel.” She beamed up at him, and Severus felt a rush of… something at the thought that this woman had been Potter’s lover. Though he wasn’t quite sure how his lover from over a thousand years ago could still look so young.

“I must visit with Nimy.” The woman nodded and glanced over at Severus with a soft smile. 

“Good day, kind sir,” she said with a small curtsey.

He scowled at the woman. “Cecilia, this is the former potions professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape. Professor, this is Cecilia, my former enchantments teacher here at Enez-Sun.” 

The woman’s eye brightened. “Hogwarts. Didst thou knowest Sal?”

Severus glanced over at Potter and noticed the man had an awkward smile. “Um, Cecilia, Salazar left Hogwarts centuries ago.” Severus blinked at Potter, the man’s words sinking in. “Oh, did he and the Ravenclaw girl finally marry then?”

Cecilia beamed at Potter as she linked her arm through Potter’s, and they began to walk. Severus followed. “Oh, aye. Rosalee made a beautiful bride. Rowena was a lovely attendant, and Alexandria oversaw the ritual.” Severus glared at the woman as her hip bumped Potter’s. “The baker’s boy finally married as well. The gardener’s daughter. Lovely girl.” Potter made a face at the woman.

“I am quite over that, thank thee,” Potter said snidely. They reached the lake, and Severus noticed a small cottage that seemed to blend in with the forest. The door opened, and a woman with long brown hair and piercing purple eyes appeared in the doorway. She smiled at the approaching trio. Severus pulled to a stop to keep from running into Potter and the woman.

“Nimue,” Potter said gruffly, and the woman stepped from the cottage and crossed over to them. She held her hands out, and Potter slipped from Cecilia’s arm and crossed over to the one Severus assumed was Nimue. A soft sigh came from the woman beside Snape, and he glanced at her observing the other reunion.

“They have such a beautiful relationship, nay? Nimue hath been on edge for days awaiting his return.”

Good lord, did the man have a harem here? “Mister Snape.” Severus looked up at the soft voice to find violet eyes studying him. The woman gave him a smile. “Please, join us for tea. I have much to discuss with Merlin.” Severus opened his mouth to refuse, but she cut him off. “Please. It will answer some of thy questions.”

She must have known how curious he was; he found himself agreeing and being led into the small cottage. Potter stood by a small table looking around. “‘Tis much the same as thy mother kept it.”

“She had a way with decor.”

Potter smiled at her. “Is she…”

“She hath her own cottage now.” A look of relief crossed Potter’s face, and they moved to sit at the table where tea was already laid out. She poured the tea and passed around the cups.

“Oh, Professor: this is Nimue, Lady Avalon, the Lady of the Lake. Nimy, this is Severus Snape.”

Nimue smiled politely at him and turned back to Potter. “I imagine thou art curious. Arthur died in battle about ten years after thy departure. Guinevere’s son took over the throne, but by then I was back here. He was much like his father, if thou recallest, so I assume he did a decent job. Ambrosius spent many years retelling thy story before retiring to his grandfather’s farm.” Severus studied Potter’s face as Nimue related these details, a look of indecision crossed his face. Finally he spoke.

“Nimy. What of…”

She gave him a knowing smile. “Returneth to France. Last I heard, he was successful in his endeavors.” Potter seemed to relax as he nodded.

“Good.” Potter sipped at his tea.

“So,” Nimue continued, a mischievous glint in her eye, “enjoy thy nap, Merlin?”

Potter chuckled, a deep rumble that echoed in Severus’s chest. “Ay. And this tea merely makes me hungrier.”

She nodded. “Then I suppose we shall take care of business. Didst thou seekest the oak?”

Potter nodded. “I did. The small amount of magic I used to destroy the cave weakened me more than I thought it might. Thou wast correct that the potions would only sustain me for so long. There was a great oak ready to greet me just outside the cave.”

Severus watched as Nimue’s cheeks turned pink, and Potter gave a soft “Ah.”

She pushed away from the table and stood. Severus and Potter copied her movements, and she moved over to a large trunk. The lid popped open and a long, silver sword floated up and into her hands. She held it reverently, turning back to face them. Severus gaped at the enchanted sword and watched as Potter accepted it. His fingers ran over the flattened blade.

“I had this commissioned from Gringott,” A smile tugged at Potter’s lips. “He thought I was crazy to have a goblin-forged sword made for a muggle. We brought it here for thy mother to bless when we retrieved Kay.”

“I remember that,” Nimue said softly as Potter placed the sword on the table. “Morgana fell so very quickly in love with Gawain.” Potter nodded and pulled the coin pouch from his robe. He tugged it open and reached inside. A moment later he pulled out a long scabbard with a familiar emblem on it. Severus didn’t realize he had reached out until his fingers brushed over the roaring dragon. He jerked his hand back and glanced up at Potter. The man was smiling indulgently at him.

“‘Tis fine, Professor. I had them commissioned at the same time as the sword. My gift to Arthur. Twelve protective medallions for his most trusted knights.”

“The stories are true then,” Severus said in awe. “I just assumed they were myths. Like all the rest of it.”

Potter gave a soft snort. “Well, ‘tis not all myth. Though I think we can both agree that I was not the product of a virgin and a demon.” Severus gave the man a look, and Potter broke out into gales of laughter. “Touche, Professor. Demon spawn I am then.”

“Well, at least some things never change.” Severus sat back in his chair and took a sip of his still-warm tea. “So what now?”

“Now, we proceed to the abbey and enjoy a feast fit for a king,” Potter answered, sliding the sword into the scabbard and swinging it over his shoulder as if it were second nature. “Then we will spend a few days in Enez-Sun while I fully recover. My magic is still unstable, and I need to make sure there are nay lasting effects.”

“Um, Potter, might I remind you, once again, there is still a war going on, and a certain Dark Lord is expecting me to return soon with a certain wand. Which reminds me: where is the Elder wand?”

Potter held up his wand and wiggled it side to side. “‘Tis here. The earth spirits added the outer layer of oak when they opened my powers.”

Severus blinked, “Thestral hair inside elder wood inside oak wood. It would take a great deal of power to wield such a combination. But we still cannot stay here for an indeterminate number of days. I will be missed.”

Potter shook his head. “Nay. A few days here will be nothing in our world. An hour, two at the most. We will stay here til morn in our world, then I must go to Gringotts.” Potter fingered the pouch still in his hand. He shoved the pouch back into his robe. “Come. I grow weary and weak. I desire sustenance, and Cecilia will have informed Alexandria of our arrival.”

Potter moved over to Nimue and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I will return tomorrow. I wish to hear more of thine adventures that followed my demise.”

She smiled up at him, nodded, and placed a hand on Potter’s cheek. “I did miss thee, Merlin. And I shall never admit such again.” 

Potter laughed, and they left the small cottage and headed to the abbey. “Potter.” The man turned to him, an odd smile on his face. “This place…”

“An odd sort of realm. They hath portals anchored in our world. Time moves awkwardly here, and they age slow. I taught the founders, knew them as children,” he said wistfully. “Salazar was a shy boy, completely besotted by Rowena Ravenclaw’s younger sister. Godric was as brash as thou wouldst think. Helga, such a sweet child. Nimue was mine apprentice at court, a mere child when she left Enez-Sun.” 

Severus blinked at the revelation that Potter’s relationship with the girl was not what he had thought. Surely Potter had had a lover. No red-blooded man could stay celibate for twenty years, not one in the prime of his life. Severus pushed the thought to the back of his mind and reprimanded himself for being so obsessed with the man’s sexual exploits. Yes, Severus would admit to a grudging respect he had begun to develop for the youth. And, yes, the grown man was worth a second look, possibly even a third, or fourth, or- no. No more than that, and maybe a small peek. Severus mentally banged his head against a wall and pulled his attention back on track. Potter was definitely older now, with a maturity that came from living a life of leadership and power. Stories of Merlin the Great flittered through Severus’s mind. His almost careless use of powerful magic. His defense for the weak and magic-less. Looking back, Severus could see the Gryffindor traits in the magician and wondered why anyone had ever assumed the man had been sorted Slytherin.

“Wait. You taught the founders?” Potter nodded. “Then there’s no way you attended Hogwarts and were sorted into Slytherin.”

Potter laughed. “Is that what they say? Well, Sal always did admire me, even more so when he discovered I could speak Parseltongue.”

“Can you still?” Severus said as they neared the abbey steps. “I always wondered, after, you know.”

“My death? Nay, I did not lose the ability.” 

The abbey doors opened, and a tall, white-robed woman with long blonde tresses stared at them with vivid green eyes, almost the color of Potter’s. Potter reached the top step and dropped to one knee, head bowed. Severus copied the movement.

“Priestess. I have returned.”

“So thou hast, Merlin. Arise, and follow me. Thou as well, Severus Snape.”

Severus’s head shot up at the use of his name, but the woman had already turned and was heading inside the abbey. Potter followed, and Severus had no choice but to go along. They entered a large hall filled with tables and people. A murmur swept through the crowd, and it was hard for Severus to miss the murmurs of “Merlin.” He had the vague notion that he was accepting all of this rather well. Perhaps in the back of his mind he thought he would wake up and find it had all been a dream. The Dark Lord’s obsession with both The Boy Who Lived (Twice) and Merlin’s wand combining to form some sort of weird hallucinogenic dream. As they made their way to what was presumably the head table Severus heard a sharp intake of breath and a masculine voice speak at the same time.

“Oh.”

“Merlin?”


	10. Chapter 9

Harry looked up at the Priestesses’ table and saw a familiar face he had never thought to see again. A broad man with greying hair and stubbled beard rested the lump of one hand on the table as he held his fork with the other, frozen in mid bite. The fork fell to the plate with a clatter. A smile broke out on the man’s face, and he rose from the table and rounded it to stand in front of Harry, clasping his shoulders.

“Bedivere? Why in the seven hells art thou here?”

The man let out a loud guffaw and pulled Harry into a quick, gruff hug. “Thou changest not a bit, Merlin. Well,” His hand fluttered around Harry’s face, “This is not what I am used to. But, I had heard thou hadst showest not thy true visage to us.”

Harry gave a small shrug. “How didst thou end up here?”

A blush tinged the man’s cheeks. “I was tasked with returning the King’s sword to the Lady of Avalon, and Lady Gawain agreed to escort me.” He motioned towards the table, and Harry looked over the knight’s shoulder to meet familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Morgana,” the word fell from his lips, and the smile tugged at his mouth. He glanced back to Bedivere. “Couldst not resist her charms, eh?”

Bedivere’s blush deepened. “Sir Gawain hath been dead five years, and the boy’s uncle hath him well in hand. She hath already decideth to return.” He glanced back at Morgana and then to Harry with a small leer. “‘Twas no hardship to choose to stay with her.”

Harry chuckled. “Nay. But, prithee, do not allowest me to keep thee from thy food and wife. We will visit later. I am sure Lady Morgana hath much to say to me.”

The man moved back to his table, and Harry gave a small bow to Morgana before moving to join Snape where Alexandria had sat the glowering man. And hadn’t that been a surprise? To wake up to those glittering black eyes and the warm touch of those delicate hands. He had nearly had to take himself in hand back in the cave when he saw the man’s dark eyes taking in his naked physique. Thankfully his ex-professor had turned away, allowing Harry’s blood to cool. The man still moved with a graceful air of authority; instead of finding it intimidating as he once had, it had the effect of making Harry’s mouth water. He had learned to appreciate a man that knew what he wanted. Snape said little during the meal. Afterwards they were shown to the guest quarters. Harry was surprised to realize the extent of his own exhaustion.

 

Harry woke the next morning to a firm knock at his door and clambered out of bed to pull the door open to a frowning Snape. “Ah. Good morn, Professor. What might I do for thee this fine day?”

Snape pushed past Harry and stormed into his room. “What is the plan, Potter?”

Harry rubbed at the sleep in his eyes and yawned. “I imagine Morgana shalt runneth scans to make sure I am healthy. She is quite an accomplished healer. Beyond that,” he shrugged, “like I said, I plan on resting while my magic rejuvenates.” Harry moved over to his bed, plucking Hermione’s bag from the side table. He pulled it open to once again summon his trunk. Placing the miniaturized object on the floor, he unshrunk it before pulling it open.

“And what of when we return to the wizarding world?”

Harry pulled out several books and placed them on the table. “Dost thou and Dra-” Harry stopped and closed his eyes for a second before speaking carefully. “Do... you and Draco… wish to join us at Hogwarts? I can get the- you and him out of wherever Voldemort is holed up with no problems.”

Snape watched him carefully as Harry flipped open the journals and glanced through them. “And the prisoners?”

Harry jerked his head up. “He still hath prisoners?”

Snape nodded. “Only a half dozen.” 

“And… Thou knowest- you know where they are kept?” Snape nodded. “You created portkeys for the others.”

“You can’t- a  _ normal  _ wizard cannot Apparate or portkey through the wards of Nott manor.”

“Nott!” Harry spat the word out at the memory of the bully. “I cannot get rid of the blighted family. Fine. Create the portkeys, and I will banish the prisoners to the outskirts of the Nott wards. Draco can administer the portkeys there.  Tho- you can work on the portkeys while we are here. Make an even ten, just to be on the safe side. I would rather have too many than not enough. We will plan on it for the night we return, which will be the night after you woke me.” He found the book he was looking for and held it out to Snape. “Here. I have no need for it any longer. I have them all memorised.”

Snape took the book and flipped it open. Harry glanced through the books again and realized he was missing one. He gave a soft snort. That brat! Nimue must have taken the journal when he’d gone to bathe. Oh, that sounded nice. A nice hot bath. “But this is Merlin’s Elixir,” Snape gasped. “No one has been able to reproduce it. How did you-” He stopped at Harry’s incredulous look, and Harry thought the soft blush was quite becoming on the pale cheeks. “Right.” He snorted and shook his head. “I suppose I am still having a hard time coming to terms with all this.” 

Harry snorted. “I believe it took me about two years to accept it.”

“Harry Potter. Merlin, the greatest wizard,” Snape smirked up at him, and Harry felt his stomach flip. “You’ll be insufferable now.” He glanced down at the book in his hands. “Did you truly invent all these?”

Harry shrugged when Snape looked up at him. “Some are simple improvements. Much like thou didst in thine- your potions text.” An odd look crossed Snape’s face, and his lips tightened as if he were trying to keep from saying something. He nodded towards the books in Harry’s hands. 

“What else do you have there?”

Harry looked down and dropped the books on his bed. “Other journals that I kept. Though I seem to be missing one.”

Snape hungrily eyed the pile of journals on Harry’s bed. “It’s in the headmaster’s office.”

“What?”

Snape looked up at him. “It’s in the headmaster’s office. It’s been there for centuries. Rumor is it was gifted to one of the founders, though it’s unclear which one. Unfortunately, it’s cursed or something. The runes are indecipherable.”

Harry laughed. “The brat. She doth enjoy her jokes. I imagine she gave it to Helga. Rowena would have figured out her little trick in mere days.”

“Whose trick?”

“Nimue’s. She’s quite a little jester. She did keep me on my toes though.” There was a knock on the door, and Snape moved off to the side as he read through Harry’s journal. Harry crossed to the door and pulled it open only to be mauled by a halo of black hair.

“Merlin.”

Harry wrapped the slim woman in his arms. “Dearest Morgana. Quite a different greeting than my first journey through time.”

She pulled back and slapped his arm. “Thou foul creature. Have I not told thee to respect thine elders?”

Harry laughed. “And I do respect thee, Lovely Morgana.” She huffed at him and waved her wand at his bed, floating his books to the side table.

“Remove thy robe and lie down. We will do the scan here. I promise not to hurt thee too much.” He chuckled as he pulled his robe over his head to reveal the leggings he wore underneath and nothing else. He bit back a smirk when he noticed Snape resolutely keeping his eyes on the book in his hands, though he didn’t turn the page. Harry moved to the bed and laid down with a wink at Morgana. “Do try to restrain thyself, Lovely Morgana. Thou art a married woman.” She scoffed and ran her wand over him. He felt the soft trickle of her magic seep into him. “Thou toldst me thou hadst no need for a knight, and I return to find thou hast taken a second to husband.”

She lifted a brow at him. “Ay. And how many knights didst thou take, young Merlin?”

Harry smirked at her. “A gentleman never kiss and telleth.”

She snorted and lowered her wand. “Ay. ‘Tis what Sir Lancelot saith as well, but his eyes saith a great much more when they looketh upon thy form.”

“His mouth said much more when he was  _ upon  _ my form,” Harry chuckled and shot out of bed as the echo of a bang reverberated around the small room. Snape’s face was burning red.

“My apologies. The book slipped.” He bent to retrieve the fallen book, and Harry felt his face blush, having forgotten the man was in the room. Harry glanced up at Morgana and saw a knowing look in her eye. He shook his head in denial, and she rolled her eyes.

“We shall see, young Merlin.” She stepped back and slid her wand into her robe. “Thy magic is almost fully returned and-”

“What do you mean:  _ almost  _ fully returned? How much more magic has he got?” Snape asked incredulously.

Morgana blinked at him. “He is the greatest wizard to ever live, Mr. Snape. How much magic dost thou supposest ‘twould take?”

“But he’s already ten times as powerful as he was as a student!”

Morgana looked at Harry. “Thou wert a weakling in thine youth, Merlin.” Harry  merely  shrugged. “I want thee to rest another day and limit thy magic. Alexandria biddeth me remindest thee no Disapparating from inside the abbey.”

“Ay,” Harry sighed. “I remember how testy she becometh when I do. Is the portal to Gringotts still anchored?”

She nodded. “Ay. Shall I send a message for them to expect thee?” 

Harry nodded. “Please.”

She nodded and moved to the door. “I shall leave ye gentleman. Shall I have a tray sent up, Merlin?”

Harry nodded. “Please and thank thee, Morgana.” She nodded and left. Harry turned to Snape. “Wouldst thou like to- Would... you like to see the library after breakfast? It is quite amazing. Or was last time I was here. I imagine it has grown some since.” Snape nodded and slipped the journal into his pocket as a maid appeared with a tray.

 

The library had indeed grown to almost triple its size from the last time Harry had been there, and he left Snape to it with a reminder about the portals. Harry made his way back out to Nimue’s cottage and spent the morning catching up with her. After a refreshing tea, he sat beside the lake and drifted in and out of wakefulness as he felt his magic building and stabilizing inside him. He rousted Snape from the library for dinner, and, surprisingly, the man pulled him into a discussion on something he had come across in the library. The conversation carried over after dinner as they made their way to Harry’s room. Snape conjured a chair and sat down while Harry sat on his bed. Harry tried not to think about getting the man into his bed, and, instead, concentrated on his speech pattern. He thought he did fairly well but knew he occasionally lapsed into the olde English dialect when he became overly heated in the conversation. After his third yawn, Snape told him to get some sleep and left. The following day was mostly the same with Snape disappearing into the vast library and Harry spending the day with some of his old friends. By that afternoon, he was feeling well enough to risk flying but decided to use a broom as it took less power than levitating himself, and he wished to practice his dips and dives that he used to do with the children. Harry finally got the warm bath he forgot he had wanted and spent almost an hour soaking in the hot water. Dinner was much the same as the previous night: he and Snape discussing the use of Eastern-European Dragon Lilies in place of the more common Fire Lily. Harry thought he almost had the man swayed to his opinion when the man gave a small huff long after they had retired to Harry’s rooms and said he needed to get some rest so he could work on the portkeys the following day. That night, Harry woke from a dream of dark hair and glittering eyes, long fingers and thin lips, soft sighs and hard thighs. That time he did take himself in hand.

Snape produced the portkeys the following afternoon as Harry was coming back from another flight. “You do not look as though your  _ nap _ is still causing lingering side effects.”

Harry laughed. “Thank thee, Snape. I will take that as a compliment.” Harry wasn’t sure when he had stopped calling the man “Professor,” but thought it had probably been some time during that first evening’s discussion. “Does that mean th- you are ready to return to  _ civilization _ ?”

Snape looked around at the abbey and bright blue skies. “It is tolerable here, Potter, but it is not home.”

Harry nodded with a small frown. “Ay. ‘Tis why I could never stay more than a few months at a time. It begins to feel unnatural at times.”

Snape nodded as if he understood what Harry was trying to say. 

“We shall say our goodbyes and leave in the morn. Besides,” Harry said with a saucy smile, “it’s not like I can’t come back. Enez-Sun is timeless.”

 

Harry looked down at the soft touch to his elbow and smiled at Cecilia. “I’ll come back.”

She smiled softly at him. “I know. Takest thee care, Merlin.”

“Thee as well, Cecilia.” He kissed her brow and pulled back at the shuffle of feet behind him. Snape was moving across the courtyard at a slow pace, having finally met the abbey’s potions master that morning, a different druid than the one that had taught Harry.

“...not sure I am the best person to ask about that, Master Snape,” the other potioneer was saying. “Merlin hath far surpasseth me in such knowledge. I would bid him access to his notes; he was, after all, quite gracious to shareth his knowledge with us.”

Harry felt himself blush at Snape’s scrutinizing look. He turned back to the door and ran his fingers over the plain wood. “I do not believe this will take me to the place it took me last time.”

Cecilia laughed. “Nay, Merlin. Much hath changed, though I think thou wilt findest it familiar.”

Harry nodded and pulled out his wand. He drew a small circle on the stone beside the door and muttered the incantation that had the stone wavering into a mirror. “Something different, I think.” He studied his reflection and grew his hair to shoulder length before it turned a dark blonde. His scar faded behind a pale complexion, and he added a bit of scruff to his chin before his eyes darkened to a light hazel. He turned to Snape who stood trying not to gape at him and held his wand up. “May I?”

Snape blinked and nodded. Harry had to commend the man for not even flinching when Harry pointed his wand at Snape’s face, though Harry did sense him tense. He shortened the black hair to ear length and lightened it to a dark brown. The eyes became dark brown as well, and Harry gave the man a petite nose and fuller lips. He softened the sharp planes of Snape’s jawline and gave the sallow skin a tinge of color. He motioned towards the mirror; Snape took a quick look before giving a sharp nod of approval. Harry turned away from the wall as the mirror wavered back to stone.

“I believe we are done. Cecilia, takest thee care.”

“Thee as well, Merlin.” She gave him a quick hug and stepped back. Harry reached for the door and pulled it open, motioning for Snape to step through.

“After you, Sir Arthur.”

Snape gave him an odd look before stepping through the portal. Harry followed and was pleasantly surprised at the luxurious room they entered. A goblin stood by the door and eyed them. Harry pulled Gringott’s key from his pocket and held it out to the goblin. The goblin blinked and looked from the key to Harry and back again.

“W-wait here, please.” The goblin hurried from the room, and Snape turned to Harry.

“What was that about?”

Harry shrugged. “Not sure. I was given the key by Gringott before I left.”

Snape blinked at him. “The original Gringott?”

Another shrug again. “Most likely not. He had to get his name from somewhere.”

Snape looked like he wanted to say something, but the door once again opened and a familiar looking goblin appeared before them.

“Gringott?”

The goblin blinked at him. “How do you know my name?”

Harry shook his head. “I apologize. You look remarkably like thine ancestor.”

The goblin eyed him with trepidation. “So the stories are true then. You have the key?”

Harry held the key up once more, and the goblin nodded. He walked over to a small table Harry hadn’t noticed and pulled a box from his pocket. He placed it on the table and stepped away. Harry looked from the box to the goblin, and the short humanoid motioned towards the box. Harry stepped over and used the key to unlock the box. He lifted the lid and blinked at the three items in the box. He grabbed the familiar medallion and turned to the goblin.

“Where didst thou get this?”

“Legend says Solstice Gringott had this crafted many years after Merlin’s disappearance. The last medallion of the Knights of the Round Table.”

Harry nodded, “So that was his name. I only ever called him ‘sir.’” He laid the object to the side before reaching back into the box and pulling out the other medallion. He held it up to the current Gringott.

“The first Order of Merlin. My ancestor thought it only right it should go in the box when the Ministry commissioned it. Of course, those  _ esteemed _ wizards are unaware of its existence.” Harry chuckled at the goblin’s tone on the word esteemed. He reached into the box for the last item and pulled out a key. “Over the years, the box became too small. Solstice was unaware of when you would return so did not know how much income your investment would generate. By the time we moved to Diagon Alley, your funds had almost outgrown the box. That is the key to your vault. Vault number 1.”

Harry blinked at the goblin. Had Gringott truly continued to pay him for his “business acumen” even after Harry’s disappearance? He shook his head at the ancient goblin. “I suppose I should at least have a look.” He dropped the medallions into the box and relocked it before pushing it into Hermione’s bag. He looked up expectantly at the goblin.

The goblin nodded, and they followed him from the room and down the hall. The goblin stopped at a large vault door and pushed an ancient-looking key into the lock. The vault door swung open, and Harry and Snape followed the goblin inside. They entered a corridor lined with more vault doors.

“The original one hundred vaults,” the goblin said and stepped over to the first vault on the left. “Vault number one. Owner: Merlin the time-traveler.”

Harry snorted. “I should have known the old devil would have figured it out.” He stepped forward, pushed his own key into the lock, and the vault swung open. Snape let out a whistle, and Harry gaped at the piles of gold. A slip of paper sat off to one side,and Harry picked it up. He unfolded it and stared down at the drawing.

“Is that a map of Diagon Alley?”

Harry nodded at Snape’s question. “During my first year there, while I was training at Enez-Sun, I would get homesick. I drew this one time. I left it for Gringott just before I left. I had needed funds when I first arrived. All I had were some loose gems, and I needed a way to exchange them. Someone discreet. So, naturally I thought of the goblins,” Harry gave Gringott a lopsided smile, and the goblin stood proudly. “I needed Gringott to trust me, so I gave him some investment advice. It became a way for me to make money my first few years.”

“Hmm. That’s almost Slytherin, Potter.”

Harry smiled at the man. “Rather. Well, I’ve no use for it really. Perhaps we can use it for reconstruction after the war or something.” He shrugged and reached out to grab a handful of the coins. He slipped the money into his pocket and turned to Snape. “I suppose you need to return?”

Snape nodded, and Harry nodded in thanks at the goblin as they moved out of the vault.  They waited for the goblin to close the vault, and Harry turned to him once more. “Do you mind if we Disapparate from here?”

The goblin blinked at him. “One cannot Disapparate inside Gringotts.” Snape snorted, and Harry stared at the goblin. The goblin looked from Harry to the vault and back. He held his hand out in supplication. “Please, be my guest.”

Harry smiled at the man. “Thanks.” 

 

They landed back in front of the cave, and Harry turned to Snape. “Can you get back here tonight?”

Snape nodded. “I should be able to return. I will tell the Dark Lord that I found an enchanted cave and will need to return to continue dismantling the wards and enchantments.”

Harry nodded as he waved his wand over Snape, letting the disguise wash away. “And he will let thee returnest alone?”

Snape nodded. “He knows I don’t work well with others.” Harry couldn’t stop the snort, and Snape glared at him before continuing. “Plus, I have him convinced it has to be me.”

“Because of the name thing.” Snape nodded. “And what of Draco? Any way he would be allowed to accompany you?”

Snape shook his head. “Not without raising suspicion.”

Harry nodded. “Can he be in his room alone at midnight?”

Snape nodded. “I will tell him to be prepared to go. Without specifics, of course, in case the Dark Lord attempts Legilimency on him.” Harry nodded in agreement.

“Speaking of,” he said carefully, and Snape tensed up. “I will need to Legilimize you tonight. I want to Apparate directly into Draco’s room and where the prisoners are kept. And since I don’t know where those are located, I will need your memories.” Snape glared at him. “I swear not to look at anything else.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Are you that good now?”

“I could manipulate Voldemort’s own memories,” Harry answered truthfully. Snape nodded.

“Very well. I will allow you to see those two memories. But I wish to go with you when you get Draco.”

Harry nodded. “It would probably be faster; there will be no time for explanations, and he already trusteth thee. You will return here before midnight. I will allow you to Apparate us to just outside the wards of Nott Manor. We will go in, grab Draco, and return to the wooded area. I will go for the prisoners by myself and banish them to you and Draco. Together you can distribute and activate the portkeys. Once all the prisoners are safely out, I will return and Apparate the three of us directly to Hogwarts.”

Snape nodded. “I never thought I would hear a reasonable plan from the mouth of Harry Potter.”

Harry smirked at the man. “I am just full of surprises, Snape.”

The man raised an eyebrow and Disapparated. Harry made his way back inside the still hidden cave and conjured a couch to lay on before pulling out the basket of food Cecilia had given him that morning and one of his journals. He spent the morning making notes in his journal before digging into the delicious food. He fell asleep sometime in the late afternoon.

 

“Potter, get your arse out here!” 

Harry jerked awake at the gruff bark and nearly fell off the couch at the sight of the silver doe that sneered down at him. He had forgotten Snape’s patronus was a mate to his own. The thought brought a hint of a smile to his lips. He waved at the doe as he rose from the couch, and the image disappeared. He quickly summoned his journal, quill, and the picnic basket into Hermione’s bag as he banished the couch. He slipped the small bag into his pocket as he stepped from the cave to face a growling Snape. He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Fell asleep.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough of that?”

Harry’s lips pulled into a half smile. “Been waiting to use that one haven’t you?”

He didn’t miss the slight twitch of the potions master’s lips. He crossed over to Snape and held out his hand. “Don’t splinch me.”

Snape roughly grabbed his arm. “Don’t tempt me.”

A moment later they were on the edge of a thick forest looking through a wrought iron gate at the large manor house before them. Harry could feel the protective wards shimmering only inches from their face. He placed a hand out to get a feel for the magic and could almost taste the darkness running through it. Harry snorted. 

“Well, I suppose I should at least give him kudos for trying. These are nothing to the abbey’s wards.” He turned to Snape and stared into the man’s eyes. “Okay. Draco’s room first.” He dove into the onyx eyes and saw the large room decorated in black and silver. Draco standing near a dark oak desk. Damn but the boy looked so young. He pulled back and nodded to Snape. “Alright then. I’m going to Apparate us in.” Snape nodded and reached out to place a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry suppressed a shudder at the long fingers digging into his flesh. He pictured the scene from Snape’s memories; a second later they were standing in the room, a startled Draco standing by the bed, wand out.

“Bloody hell, Snape.” The boy’s grey eyes landed on Harry and his mouth dropped open. “Merlin, Potter. What the hell happened to you?”

“Shut up and get over here,” Harry told the boy.

“Come, Draco. Explanations later,” Snape snapped and Draco shot over to him. “You have everything?” Draco nodded, and Harry pictured the forest. 

“How the hell did you Apparate through those wards, Potter?” Draco asked when they were in the forest again.

Harry smirked at the boy. “Magic, Malfoy. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.” Harry turned to Snape. “The prisoners.” Snape nodded, and Harry was once again seeing a dark room with several people huddled together. It reminded Harry of the time they had been imprisoned in the Malfoy Manor dungeons. Once again he pulled back with a nod. “Get the portkeys ready.” They nodded, and Harry Disapparated.

There was an extra person in the cellar, and, as the man whirled around, wand at the ready, Harry was already summoning the wand. The man gaped at him.

“Merlin,” he gasped when his eyes landed on Harry’s forehead. Harry bound and gagged the man.

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” he said as the man fell to the floor, eyes wide. Harry began banishing the prisoners much as he had done on that long ago night when Kay had been so severely wounded. When the last prisoner had vanished from the cell, Harry walked over to the stunned man and looked down into wide, fearful eyes. “Thou must be a Nott. Thou hast thine ancestor’s look about thee. Well, I cannot very well leave thee to inform thy master that Merlin hath returned,” he shook his wand in front of the man’s face, and the eyes bulged out even more in realization. Harry grabbed the man and conjured a blindfold over his eyes. He Disapparated and landed in the forest as Draco tossed a portkey on the last prisoner. The boy looked at Potter and opened his mouth to speak. Harry pressed a finger to his lips. “There was a guard with the prisoners.” Harry reached up and tore the man’s left sleeve revealing the Dark Mark tattoo. He pushed Nott forward and the man stumbled and fell. “Send him with the others. The Order will know what to do with him."

 

Outside the gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Remus Lupin watched his long-time friend pace back and forth. He glanced up, grateful that only a quarter of the moon shone that night. He had volunteered the two of them for gate duty that night, knowing his friend was still overwrought with the absence of his godson. Remus thought the chance to get outside and do some productive pacing would be a nice change rather that the useless pacing Sirius had partaken  of the last month. Several of the Order members had taken to researching the history of the spell Hermione had found and altered, looking for any indication of what might have gone wrong when Harry had attempted the spell on his own. Remus thought, they all thought, they should have realized the young man would try something so foolish. It was just the sort of thing for which Harry was famous.

When the first body appeared, dropping down from just inches above the ground, Remus thought Voldemort must be on a rampage. After all, it had only been a week since the last historian had landed at their gates, and it was usually several months between “gifts,” as they had begun to call them. Sirius jogged over and leaned down to inspect the ex-prisoner, pulling back the man’s left sleeve.

“He’s alive,” Sirius confirmed. “I’ll help him to the-” Sirius’s words were cut off as another body dropped from nowhere. Sirius looked up at Remus.

“What the bloody hell is going on over there?” Sirius shrugged, and another body landed near the second. “I’d better send a patronus to the castle.” Sirius nodded, and Remus sent the silver wolf to the castle with a message to send as many Aurors to help collects gifts as they could. “Let’s get them inside the gates, at least,” Remus said and Sirius nodded, levitating the first man and guiding him to just inside the gates that marked the wards. Remus stepped over to the closest body and pulled back the sleeve to reveal bare skin. He levitated the man as Sirius moved to the next and so on and so on. By the time several Aurors came running down to the gates they had counted six gifts.

“Bloody hell,” one of the Aurors said as he saw the prisoners lined up. Remus was about to say he very much agreed when another body fell to the ground. He turned to the new gift and froze. There was no need to check this one, the man’s sleeve was torn, a dark tattoo shining in the moonlight.

“Oh, Merlin!”


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Msk2002- per your request; Sev's POV. Enjoy :) I think you'll like this one.

By now, Severus was used to the powerful rush of magic when he touched Potter. That still didn’t stop his breath from catching in his throat as the man grabbed ahold of him and Draco after the Death Eater had been swept away.

“Well, gentlemen, are ye ready to depart from such hostile environs?”

Draco turned to Potter, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What?”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Just get us to safety before the alarm is sounded, Potter.”

The man nodded, and Severus felt the familiar pull of Apparition. They landed in the familiar surroundings of the headmaster’s office; a startled Minerva jumped from the desk, wand at the ready. She blinked at the sight before her.

“Severus. Mr. Malfoy.” Her eyes landed on Potter. “Harry?”

Potter let out that loud bark of laughter that was beginning to do odd things to Severus’s insides and released the two Slytherins. “Professor,” he crossed over to the witch and wrapped her in a fierce hug. She let out a small gasp and patted his back awkwardly.

She pulled back and studied the grown man. “Harry, what happened? Where have you been?”

He smiled at her. “All in due time, my lady. We should await the others. Did the gifts arrive?”

She gaped at him. “That was you? We just sent several Aurors down there. Lupin and Black were on duty, and they sent a Patronus saying several gifts had arrived.” Her eyes flickered towards Severus. “So we were correct; it was you and Mr. Malfoy, Severus?”

Severus nodded. She swallowed thickly but didn’t say anything, and Severus was grateful. He wasn’t sure he could handle such emotions right then. “Will you summon the others, Professor?” Potter asked.

She nodded. “Yes! Yes, right away.” She placed a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Harry.” She pulled back and went over to the fireplace, grabbed the jar of Floo powder, and knelt at the hearth. Potter turned to Severus.

“You said my book was here? I’d like it back.”

Severus nodded and crossed over to the bookcase. He pulled the familiar tome down and glanced at it before handing it to Potter. The man took it and flipped it over before opening it. His fingers ran over the foreign runes from left to right, and he mumbled softly to himself. Severus watched as the runes on the pages shifted and formed words. He glanced up to see a smile pull at Potter’s plump lips, and green eyes glinted up in satisfaction. The book slammed shut, and Potter held it out. Severus took it in shock.

“‘Tis nothing more than an accounting of my time in Egypt, but Nimue was always fascinated by it. I expect it back when thou art done with it.” Severus looked down at the book, hardly able to believe that he would be the first in over a thousand years to read this text. 

“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the honor, Potter.”

The man shrugged. “You haven’t read it yet, Snape. I make no promises, though I would greatly appreciate it if you would refrain from marking it up with your red quill.”

Severus let the smirk pull at his lips. “I make no promises, Potter.” He felt a small jolt of excitement as Potter’s lips turned up into a smile. Severus pressed the book against his chest and moved to stand back beside Draco as Minerva moved away from the Floo.

“The others should be here soon,” she told Potter. “I sent Kingsley down to fetch Remus and Sirius.”

“Sirius,” Severus heard the emotion in the man’s voice and saw a hint of the lonely boy Potter had once been. A tea tray with several cups on it appeared beside Potter, and he glanced at it ruefully. “I believe we might need something a bit stronger, Professor.”

Minerva gave a small sniff. “At this ungodly hour, we will at least start with something civilized.”

The Floo flared to life, and Severus grabbed Draco’s arm, pulling him back into the shadows. “Keep your mouth shut and no sudden movements,” he hissed at the boy. “If we’re lucky, they’ll forget about us long enough that you might learn what has happened. It’s quite an interesting story.” Draco nodded, and  the boy’s  lips thinned as he pressed them together. They watched as a head of bushy brown hair stepped through followed by Weasley’s familiar mop of red.

The two friends gaped at the man before them. “Harry,” Granger said weakly.

Potter smiled sheepishly at her. “Hey, ‘Mione.”

“Bloody hell, mate. What happened to you?”

“I’ll explain once everyone gets here,” Harry reassured them.

Weasley bobbed his head. “You had bloody well better.”

The Floo flared to life once more as more Weasleys stepped through. There were more exclamations, and Severus smirked when he heard a few “Merlin!”s thrown in. He could tell it was hard for Potter not to respond to the epitaph. Finally, Kingsley, Lupin, and the mongrel came in through the door as Minerva was passing out tea.

“Alright, mate,” Weasley said. “What in Merlin’s name happened?”

Potter smirked and pulled out his wand. A round of gasps echoed through the room. “I found Merlin’s wand.” He ran the light-colored wood through his fingers. “Actually, ‘tis my wand,” he lazily pointed it towards the youngest male Weasley, “and I would thank thee not to besmirch my name. ‘Tis all rather simple, really. When I cast the spell to speak to Merlin, I ended up going back in time.” Severus watched as the man glanced up at his friends with a smirk. “Turns out I had Merlin’s wand the entire time. Or rather my wand.”

“Harry, mate,” one of the older Weasleys spoke out, “you aren’t making any sense.”

“Perhaps I should just show you,” Potter said, and a moment later his hair began to lengthen, a grey beard appeared on his chin, and his eyes turned a soft blue.

There were stifled gasps around the room, and even Draco stiffened beside Severus.

“Bloody hell, Harry.”

“What the-?”

“Merlin!”

Potter turned at Sirius’s gasp. ”What? Oh, sorry. That is going to take some getting used to.” He turned back to the group as his features returned to normal. “So, yes. Short version, I went back in time. And it turns out: I am the actual Merlin.”

“But, that’s impossible!” Granger said. “Paradoxes and everything.”

Potter smiled at her. “Didst not tho- you learn anything our third year? There are no time paradoxes in history because we set our own. Everything we do when we go back in time we have already done. I didn’t  _ mean  _ to become Merlin, but through some... miscommunication, the wizard that found me thought I said my name was Merlin.”

“So then he already knew of Merlin and-”

“No, Hermione,” Potter cut her off. “He asked me what my name was at the same time that I was muttering ‘Merlin’ as an exclamation of disbelief. He took it as my name.”

“So,” Charlie Weasley interrupted Granger’s next question. “You really knew King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table?”

Potter nodded. “I did. I knew some better than others, but I knew them all.”

“And Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot?” The Weasley girl asked, a tone of wistfulness in her voice.  

Potter nodded. “Ay.”

“And did he really love her enough to defy the king?” Potter’s brow furrowed. “I think it’s so romantic that they had a forbidden love. That he risked everything for her. And-”

“He risketh not a damn thing for Guinevere,” Potter said hotly, and the entire room went silent. “Guinevere loveth Arthur and naught a soul else. They had been in love since they were children and had given up hope of ever being allowed to marry. Thou shalt not dimmest their love by  talk  of some false and tawdry affair thy storybooks hath made up. And Lance loveth nothing more than the idea of reclaiming his father’s lands. He hath adored Arthur, and they were truly the best of friends. Thou hast no idea-”

Severus sighed. “Potter!”

The man turned on him, green eyes flashing. “What?”

“Speak. English.  _ Modern  _ English.”

The man blinked, and Severus was gratified to see him blush. “Ay. I apologize for mine outburst,” he said to the small crowd. “Um. No. Sir Lancelot did not love the Queen any more than any of her other subjects did.” Potter pressed his fingers against his scar in an old habit. “Um, Morgana was not evil.” A smirk pulled at his lips, “Well, unless you got in her way. She can be quite snappish when she is caught up in something. Nimue is not an evil witch that locked me in a cave. Okay, that’s not entirely true, either. She did place the final spell that sealed me in the cave, and she has an almost cruel sense of humor at times. Did I miss anything?”

“What about the Lady in the Lake,” One of the twins asked eagerly.

“Was she as beautiful as the stories claim?”

Potter smirked at them. “She was not  _ in _ the lake. She lives by the lake, and, yes, she is quite beautiful. Stunning violet eyes and quite graceful.”

“And Excalibur?” Black said.

Potter reached into his robe and pulled out the small pouch he carried with him. “Oh, ay. ‘Tis right here.”

“My bag,” Granger squeaked, and Potter blushed.

“Ay. I carried it with me the entire time.”

“The entire time,” Lupin said. “How long were you there, Harry?”

“Twenty years,” Potter said as he reached into the bag and pulled the sword from its depths.

“Bloody hell,” Draco whispered beside him. “Is that truly…” Severus nodded as he watched Potter pull the gleaming sword from the scabbard.

“Merlin,” Ronald Weasley gasped, and Potter looked up from the sword.

“What?” His cheeks flared pink. “Sorry.”

“Um, Harry,” Granger said cautiously, and Potter looked at her. “The legends all say that Merlin is waiting for King Arthur to come find him.”

“Ah, yes,” Potter said, tossing a glance at Severus. “To tell the truth, I was expecting Mr. Weasley or Bill at the very least.”

“Why… Arthur,” she answered her own question.

“But then who woke you?” Black asked.

Potter indicated the corner where he and Draco stood. “Professor Snape.”

“But how?” Charlie Weasley asked. There was a snort, and Severus looked up to see Minerva’s twinkling eyes on him. She knew! Of course she knew his middle name. She’d read it from the damn scroll, hadn’t she? He glared at her.

“Suffice it to say,” Minerva said, “Severus fits the requirements quite nicely.”

“Oh,” Granger piped up. “Because by blood he’s of the Prince line.”

“Er, yes,” Minerva answered vaguely. 

“And they were the ones responsible for all the  _ gifts _ ?” Kingsley finally spoke up.

“Yes,” Potter answered. “Snape helped me get into Nott Manor to free their current prisoners, and he and Draco passed out the portkeys. We will need to strike soon. There is no telling what Voldemort will do when he realizes he has been betrayed.”

“Harry,” Ronald said thoughtfully. “What if we wait a bit?”

“Wait?” Severus said disbelievingly. “As soon as the Dark Lord finds out all his prisoner and three of his Death Eaters are gone, he will grow suspicious. Especially when I don’t return from Merlin’s cave. It won’t take him long to figure it out and he’ll be livid. There will be a price on mine and Draco’s head.”

Weasley nodded. “Right. And word will eventually spread to the general population that you’ve turned or had turned at some point. It will be easier for the general wizarding population to accept you and Malfoy when this is all over. Easier for you to walk away a free man.”

Severus blinked at the man. That was positively Slytherin of the Gryffindor. “And what about in the meantime? All the murders and chaos he can do in the interim?

“Oh, he can’t leave,” Potter said, and the entire room turned to him. Potter looked at Severus. “After I got you and Draco out, I tied Voldemort to his wards. He and those closest to him. The further from the Manor they travel the weaker their powers will become.”

“Can you even do that?” Granger asked skeptically. Potter shrugged. 

“I can. It took a bit of Earth magic, and that’s fairly unpredictable, but  Lady Earth  assured me She would hold the anchor for me. I did promise Her we would come back and cleanse the grounds around the manor once Voldemort was gone.”

The conversation quickly turned to war tactics and tentative plans. As the hour grew later and dawn began to close in on them, the small crowd grew smaller and smaller. Kingsley eventually led Draco off to get the young man settled into a room, and Minerva left to get some rest before she was forced to speak with the Minister the following day, or rather later that morning, regarding Potter’s absence. They had agreed to keep his return a secret for now, as well as his identity as Merlin. Severus thought the others must have forgotten he was still there as, soon, even Sirius Black retired, leaving the Golden Trio alone in the headmaster’s office, save for Severus who was pretending to be asleep.

“Alright, Harry,” Granger said softly, as if afraid to wake Severus or have him overhear. “Don’t think I didn’t miss your slip up.”

“What slip up, Hermione? I was quite frank with all of ye in your questions.”

“Yes. But earlier, when Ginny was speaking of Guinevere and Lancelot you called him Lance and were very adamant that he was  _ not  _ in love with Guinevere,” she said with a knowing tone in her voice.

Potter snorted. “Of course he wasn’t in love with Guinevere. Lancelot was gayer than Dumbledore’s rainbow and fairy robes.”

Severus bit back the snort, Weasley was not so successful.

“And how would you know, Harry,” Granger asked slyly.

“Well, of course, Arthur and Ambrosius knew what I really looked like under my guise as Merlin, so, many evenings I dropped the facade when I was having drinks with Arthur. One night I wasn’t paying attention and dropped the guise when Lancelot was in the room.” Severus felt a rush of envy at the long-dead knight at the wistful tone in Potter’s voice. “The next night Lancelot showed up in my rooms, and, well, things got interesting quick.”

The room was silent for several minutes before Granger spoke again. “Were you in love? You and him?”

Severus held his breath, waiting. Potter snorted. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? The only thing Lance was in love with was the idea of getting his father’s lands back.”

“And you?”

“Nay. I knew eventually I was going to be coming back, so I never let my heart get involved. Besides, you know. There was that… other thing.”

“Still?” Weasley asked incredulously.

“Well, yeah,” Potter said, sounding like his old self.

“And now?” Granger asked softly. There was no verbal answer from Potter, but the room fell silent. Finally, Potter spoke.

“I should let ye get to bed. And find a comfortable place for Severus.” Severus almost started at the sound of his name on Potter’s lips. “Is that guest room next to mine still kept ready?”

“You sure you want  _ him _ that close to you?” Weasley asked.

Potter chuckled. “I’m a big boy, Ron. I think I can handle Severus.” Severus gave an inaudible sigh. He wouldn’t mind being  _ handled _ by Potter. A tingle of magic washed over him, and Severus had his wand in his hands in seconds. He turned at the soft chuckle and glared at Potter. “Bedtime, Professor.” A shiver raced down Severus’s spine at the purring tone. He pulled himself to his feet.

“Am I to assume that I will not be shown to a cell?’

Potter chuckled. “I promise I have a nice warm bed just for thee, Snape.”

Severus willed himself not to blush and shook out his robes. “Very well, Potter. Lead the way.” He glanced over at the remaining Gryffindors. “Weasley. Granger. Night.”

“Er, g’night, ‘fessor,” Weasley mumbled, and Severus wondered why the boy’s face was red.

“Goodnight, Professor Snape,” Granger said politely.

Severus waited at the bottom of the stairs for Potter to say his goodbyes and join him. “I assume my old quarters are not an option,” he said as they began walking.

“Afraid not, Snape,” Potter said, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “Most of the old living quarters in the dungeons are now housing refugees or Aurors. We keep a few guest quarters at the ready, and I believe Kingsley was putting Draco near the Ravenclaw tower. I thought thou might wish to be close to th- your fellow Slytherins.”

“Slytherins?” The word brought Severus up short, and Potter turned to him.

“Aye. We’ve Blaise Zabini and his fiancée, the Greengrasses, and a few others.” They were walking again, making their way up the moving staircases. 

“And you just allow these Slytherins free reign?”

Potter eyed him. “This isn’t a prison, Snape. People are free to come and go. Besides, they were questioned quite intensely.  _ All _ our refugees were,” Potter added with a significant look, and Severus gave a terse nod. “The only room left will be the one next to mine, and I should warn thee it has a connecting door.”

Severus swung his head to glare at Potter. “Why?”

Potter shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Perhaps it was a suite at one point. Don’t worry, Snape, I promise not sneak in and ravage thee in thy sleep.” Pity.

“No. Why would  _ you _ allow me in that room?”

Potter gave another nonchalant shrug. “Better thee than Malfoy. He might have been helping us, but I can’t imagine he is any less a prat.” Potter’s lips tightened. “Besides. I trust thee more than him not to attempt to enter my room through the door before considering the ramifications. I don’t think I have to remind thee how powerful I am, and I don’t think Draco appreciates that just yet.”

Severus nodded. He would have to agree. Though his thoughts did linger on what the “ramifications” might be should he choose to enter Potter’s quarters. They made it up to the fifth floor and Potter turned down a corridor before stopping at a single dark oak door. He pointed the door they had just past. “That is mine and, like I said, there is also a connecting door should you have need of me. Try to get some sleep, Snape.” 

 

The following day, or rather later that same day, things weren’t much easier. Severus slept until a house elf woke him with the offer of a tray, and he realized how ravenous he was. He dug into the oft-remembered food and pulled out Potter/Merlin’s journal. He spent the afternoon reading through Potter’s Egyptian travels and read about someone named Ambrosius’s attempts to create ballads of their travels. The man was a horrendous song-writer, and Severus hoped the man had gotten better. Severus copied several notations in his own journal when Potter referenced specific plants and herbs and was glad he had thought to gather his own trunk the previous day. The Dark Lord had been pleased to learn that Severus had come across a heavily enchanted cave and had agreed wholeheartedly that Severus would need to return to complete dismantling the wards. He had even been gracious enough to allow Severus the afternoon to rest. Severus had used the reprieve to sneak up to Draco’s room and warn the boy to pack and be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. He hadn’t missed the look of complete relief on his Slytherin’s face. He had returned to his lab, ostensibly to check on a potion, and had cleaned the shelf of his more important or deadly ingredients, filling the jars with transfigured “ingredients” to give the facade that all was as it should be. He had then returned to his own quarters, packing up only his most prized possessions. His Death Eater robes and mask no doubt still graced the chair where he had thrown them several nights ago. He had left behind some books as well. The ones that held no interest for him or he had extra copies of. He had stuffed it all in his trunk and shrunk it before slipping it into the pocket of his robe hanging next to the door. He hadn’t wanted to leave his trunk out in the open in case someone had entered his room and saw the packed cuboid.

There was a knock on his door, and Severus rose, wand in hand out of habit as he crossed to the door. He carefully pulled it open, foot against the bottom of the door in case whomever was on the other side tried to force their way in. He peeked through the slight opening to see Draco.

“Snape. I wanted to ask if you were going down to dinner.” Draco looked slightly nervous as he stood there, trying to hide the fact that he was wringing his hands. It was a habit Severus had never been able to break the boy of. “Zabini, the Greengrasses, and some others are here as well. I’ve spent the day explaining things to them. They’d, uh, like to see you, sir. Plus, um, Potter hasn’t been out of his rooms either, and I think it would go a long way if the two of you were seen at dinner... playing nice,” he said with a small smirk. So Potter had holed up in his rooms as well? No doubt trying to acclimate to being back in this time. Probably spending time with Weasley, Granger, Black, and Lupin; going into even more depth of his time in King Arthur’s court. “There are rumors that Potter is back, so I’m sure he’ll be at dinner tonight. People know he’s aged, but they don’t know the details. Still, I think it will come as a shock when they see him.”

Severus nodded his head. “No doubt.”

Draco glanced down the hall, and Severus pulled the door open enough to stick his head out to see Bill Weasley walking towards them with a bundle of clothes in his hand. He stopped at Potter’s door and knocked. The door was pulled open as if expecting the visitor, and Bill held the bundle out.

“Ron thought my clothes might fit you, Harry. Don’t want to shock the masses with those tights and tunic,” the man added in a teasing tone.

“I can’t believe Ron called my robes old-fashioned,” Potter pouted from just inside the door, and Bill laughed.

“Dinner’s in half an hour. Try not to make an entrance.” Potter said something that Severus didn’t catch and slammed the door in Bill’s face. Bill let out a loud laugh and turned and walked away. Draco turned back to Severus, and Severus nodded.

“I will be down in a few minutes, Draco. Let me get into some clean robes.”

Draco smiled in relief and nodded. “Alright, sir. See you in a bit.” Severus nodded and closed the door. He crossed over to his trunk and pulled out a dark green, almost black robe. Contrary to his student’s opinions, he didn’t mind a little color, though he would be the first to admit that most of his robes were dark enough to  _ look _ black in certain lighting. The black robes had been easy to maintain, hiding spilled potions and such, not to mention the severe and intimidating look it had given him. He pulled the dark green robe on and brushed out his hair, pulling it back into a single queue. He pushed his feet into his self-lacing boots and stepped from his room, head held high. He kept the confident stance all the way to the Great Hall which was already full of mingling people. He noticed immediately it no longer held the four long tables separated for houses but instead had several smaller tables that could seat anywhere from four to eight people scattered around like a muggle restaurant. He spotted Draco standing with Zabini and the two Greengrass girls near the front. He made his way over to them, mindful of the whispers and glances all the way. 

“Snape,” Draco said on a sigh that showed his doubt as to whether Severus would show up or not. He nodded, and the other three former students greeted him with rounds of “Professor.”

“I am pleased to see that at least some of my students were smart enough to figure out what was what and found safety.” Zabini relaxed slightly as if he had been afraid Severus would reprimand him for hiding with the Light. Severus turned to him. “Potter mentioned you were here with your fiancée.”

“You’ve seen him then?” One of the Greengrass girls said excitedly, and  Severus  turned to her.

“Indeed.  Potter  was, after all, the one that brought us here. Did Draco not say as much?”

Her face went a soft pink. “Well, yes. And there were rumors that he had been found, but no one has seen him as yet.”

“Is it true he traveled through time, sir?” The other girl asked excitedly.

Severus lifted an eyebrow at her, reminding her in his silent way not to be impertinent. “You will learn as much as you need to know, when you need to know it, Ms. Greengrass.” She colored appropriately and nodded. Severus turned back to Zabini. “Your fiancée?”

Zabini pointed behind Severus, and he turned to see a small group of girls chatting amiably. He recognized them all as former students. Ginny Weasley of course he had seen last night. But there was also Hannah Abbot, Luna Lovegood, and Cho Chang. Honestly, Severus could not see Zabini with any of them.

“Cho Chang, sir,” Zabini clarified. “We have been engaged for about three months.” 

Severus nodded and turned back to Zabini. “A good match for you, Zabini. I take it she does not take any of your conceited arrogance.”

Zabini blushed and looked down. “No, sir.” Severus nodded his approval.

“Severus,” he turned to see Kingsley standing behind him.

“Kingsley.”

The man smiled ruefully at him. “I did not get a chance to speak to you last night and thank you for everything you have done for us. I realize it could not have been easy getting us information from the inside. I am just glad Harry was able to get you and Draco out.”

Severus nodded. “I appreciate the sentiments, Kingsley.” The man opened his mouth to say something but a murmur went through the crowd, and they turned as one to see what was going on. Severus didn’t  _ really _ need to look to know it was merely Potter making his usual grand entrance. The man couldn’t help but make a stir wherever he-

Severus lost his train of thought as Potter came into view. Sweet Merlin, and wasn’t that an ironic thought, because Potter did look oh-so-sweet in his borrowed clothes. The tee that stretched across his shoulders and Bill Weasley’s jeans did little to hide what the robes had. Flashes of Potter in the cave had Severus’s mouth watering. He dragged his eyes away to realize he wasn’t the only one noticing the smooth gait as Potter strode beside Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Confidence and power oozed from the man, and Severus thought he ought to find a seat rather quickly before his weak knees gave out. Merlin, what he wouldn’t give to have that confident man beneath him, begging Severus to take him, please him, claim him.

“I think,” came Draco’s soft voice, “several wizards just discovered their homosexual side.”

“Merlin,” came Zabini’s exasperated voice, “he doesn’t even have to sleep with Cho, and I’ll never measure up.”

“I don’t think any of us can measure up, if that bulge in his pants is any indication.”

Severus turned a sneer on Draco. “Do not speak of him like that, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco blinked in surprise at Severus and nodded dumbly. The grey eyes widened, and Severus turned to see Potter heading his way. He smiled that cheeky smile Severus was growing much too fond of and held a hand out when he reached their small group.

“Snape. Glad to see you could make it. I wondered if you and Draco would like to join us at our table. It’s just a bunch of Gryffindors tonight, but surely two Slytherins can handle us for an hour.”

Severus gave a small nod. “Challenge accepted, Mr. Potter.”

Potter threw his head back with a laugh, and Severus let his eyes travel down the slender neck. Gods the man exuded  _ sex _ . “All right then. And you, Draco?”

The blonde gave a nod, and they followed Potter and the others to a table that already held Minerva, Black, and Lupin. Potter indicated a chair, and Severus sat with Draco on one side and Potter sliding in on the other. Around the Great Hall others began to settle in with curious looks up at their table. The food appeared, and Severus filled his plate, noticing Potter eyeing the food. He leaned closer to the man.

“I promise it is all safe. The house elves do not have it out for you. Yet.”

Potter shot him a grin and reached for the closest bowl. “Just not used to it yet.” He dumped a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate and eyed them hungrily. He added several more things before tearing a piece of bread off and scooping up some potatoes and shoving it into his mouth.

“Potter, use a fork and take smaller bites. People are watching,” Severus hissed.

Potter blushed. “Right. Sorry.” He picked up the implement beside his plate and eyed it almost warily.

“It doesn’t bite. At least I don’t think that one does.”

Potter chuckled and shot a wink at Severus. “I could make it.”

“Harry, no,” Granger hissed from across the table. Potter chuckled and dipped the fork into the potatoes. 

“God’s teeth!” Potter moaned. “I forgot how delicious the food could be.” Potter dug into his food with gusto after that, and Severus’s stomach clenched with every small moan of appreciation the man made. Severus was about ready to call it quits when dessert was served. Slices of chocolate cake appeared in front of them, and Potter sat staring at his plate.

“Harry,” came Granger’s concerned voice. Severus looked up over at the man, a suspicious moisture at the corner of his eyes.

“Potter?” he said softly, and the man glanced up with a watery smile.

“Sorry. They… It’s just…” He swallowed and looked back down at his plate. “I haven’t had chocolate in twenty years,” he whispered.

“Merlin,” Weasley gasped at Potter’s pronouncement, and Potter’s head shot up.

“What?” He blinked rapidly at his friend, and a soft blush stole over his cheeks. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Ron, you’re really going to have to stop saying that,” Granger admonished her boyfriend, and the redhead blushed.

“Sorry, Harry.” But Potter had already gone back to his cake. Severus watched as he dipped his fork into the cake and reverently lifted the bite to his lips. Severus licked his lips as Potter’s plump mouth closed around the bite. He let out a long low moan, and Severus’s blood rushed south.

“God’s teeth, this is incredible. I shall never tire of chocolate.” Potter slid another bite into his mouth, savoring it with a small sigh of satisfaction. By the time Potter had finished his cake, Severus had barely taken more than two bites of his own dessert. Potter gave a soft sigh of disappointment, and, before he even thought about his actions, Severus was pushing his own barely eaten cake in front of the man, not ready to give up those soft sounds. “Snape?”

Severus waved his hand. “I am quite full, Potter. It will only go to waste.”

“Thanks,” Potter said cheerfully and went back to making those soft little sounds.

Severus was torn between disappointment and relief when the meal ended. The next hour was filled with visiting with former friends and colleagues before Severus felt the need to retire. He slipped from the hall and ran into Potter and Granger in the corridor.

“No. I just can’t take anymore tonight, Hermione. My body is still trying to adjust with all the activity.”

“Alright, Harry. Get some rest, and we’ll see you in the morning.” She gave him a quick hug and turned back towards the hall. “Oh, hello, Professor.”

He nodded at her. “Granger.”

“Art thou- are you retiring for the night as well, Snape?”

Severus nodded at Potter. “I am sure you remember well that I am not one for crowds.”

Potter chuckled. “Ay. Do you mind if I walk with you?”

Severus motioned towards the stairs. “I suppose it is better than you following me. I do hate to be followed.”

Potter smirked. “No. I suppose a spy wouldn’t like that very much.” They said their good nights to Granger and headed up the stairs. “Are you getting settled in? Hermione said you didn’t come out of your room until dinner.”

“Like you, I found the need to readjust to a new lifestyle.”

Potter nodded. “It is an adjustment. But, like before, I shall persevere. It is, after all, what I do.”

Severus glanced at the man walking beside him. “Yes. I suppose it is.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way to their rooms, and Severus found several opportunities to glance at Potter’s fine physique. They reached their hall, and Potter walked Severus past his door to Severus’s.

“I meant to ask if you’d had a chance to read the journal.”

Severus nodded. “Despite your previous attempts at writing, I found it rather enjoyable.”

Potter gave a soft smile of pride. “Good, good. When you are done let me know. I have others.”

Severus nodded. “You had mentioned.”

Potter gave a terse nod. “Well, then, good eve, Snape. I shall see thee in the morn.”

Severus gave a small nod and watched Potter as he turned and strode over to the other door, the borrowed jeans moving against Potter’s body with each broad step, and Severus found his eyes drawn to the curve of hips that twenty years hadn’t diminished. Potter slipped through the door, and Severus turned to enter his own temporary quarters. His eyes immediately went to the door he just  _ knew _ connected to Potter’s room though he hadn’t dared to test the theory yet. Severus’s hand itched to grab a handful of those dark tresses, to glide over the toned body he remembered from the cave, and to tease Potter’s… endowments to full hardness. Severus groaned and let his head fall back against the door. Oh, Merlin.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for being late with this week's update. I was working on a new fic and forgot what day it was. Hopefully the Snarry will make up for it. :)

Harry was getting restless. At least back as Merlin, he had the opportunity to travel to Enez-Sun when he got bored… of course he could  easily  go and spend a few weeks there now and no one would  be the wiser . But, he was on a mission. A mission that didn’t include the betterment of wizarding society or the world in general. No,  _ this  _ mission was strictly personal and spent its nights on the other side of a connecting door. It had been nearly a week since their return, and there were already whispers filtering in from the outside wizarding world about the disappearance of Snape and Draco. There were also hints of someone claiming to be Merlin. Harry wondered how that had happened but shrugged it off. Unless he was willing to Apparate into the middle of the Ministry in full Merlin mode, it would remain rumors. 

All these thoughts swirled in Harry’s mind as he went through his days: conferring with Kingsley about Death Eater movements, discussing possible tactics with other Order meetings, and checking in randomly with the refugees, the same things he had done before his little adventure in the past. His third day there he spoke to Snape after dinner about getting intel on Voldemort’s current home base. It had been an excuse to spend time with the man, but after finding his knowledge insightful, Harry took copious amounts of notes as they talked over drinks after dinner. Occasionally, Harry invited Draco in to tell what he knew, but the younger Malfoy had not been as informed as Snape in regards to the inner circle. Their nightly interrogative sessions would slide into more casual conversation which was Harry’s favorite part. The time when he got to know the man behind the firm sneer. He loved watching the emotions play over Snape’s face when he spoke of something that interested him, watching his lips move as he spoke vehemently on this topic or that. It was almost enough to make Harry want to launch himself at the man. 

As an adolescent in the throes of discovering his sexuality, Harry’s main focal point had been the dark, mysterious, and alluring form of their potions professor. Harry had spent many nights thinking about elegant hands, silky voices, and the correlation between noses and… other things. Though his own schnoz was no indication, he did have rather large feet. When Harry had thought Snape a traitor, his fantasies had taken on a rather twisted, revenge sort of darkness. They had begun to alter, once again, when he had begun to realize that the man was not as evil as they had attributed to him. Looking back now, Harry realized how… juvenile his fantasies had been. As a sexually inexperienced sixteen to nineteen-year-old, Harry had had no idea the things two men could get up to. He had been content with fantasizing about Snape’s long fingers sliding over Harry’s erect cock, or the idea of Snape’s mouth on him. Had no idea what it actually felt like to be swallowed whole, or empty himself between plump lips. Had never thought about thick fingers deep inside him or a velvet smooth cock sliding into him. He thought about it now. Dreamed about having Snape’s body covering him, thrusting into Harry, dark hair brushing Harry’s thighs as he writhed beneath firm lips and strong hands. Harry shuddered at the thought.

Harry also thought the man might not be as immune to him as Harry had first thought. He thought about that moment in the cave when he had very nearly caught Snape eyeing him. Harry hadn’t meant to be provocative, had merely been following Nimue’s instructions in applying the salve as expediently as possible. That Snape had been there had simply been a nonentity, something that was, but held no significant value. The nights in Enez-Sun had brought his childish fantasies and obsession back but on a stronger level. He was shocked to find how much he had come to respect the man. Time and distance from the events of his childhood had put a new perspective on things for Harry... A new perspective on Snape.

Watching the man speak now, listening to his low voice as they discussed one of Harry’s passages in his Egyptian journal, brought it all to the forefront. Snape wore that same dark green, almost black robe he had worn that first night back at Hogwarts, and Harry loved the way it showed Snape to his advantage. It outlined his long torso, curved against his backside when he walked, and flared out around his ankles when he paced. Like he was doing now; several steps, turn, flare, several steps. Snape’s long finger ran over his bottom lip as he thought about the words he wished to say, spoke his argument with firm conviction and a smooth voice, and paced. Harry pushed himself up from the couch.

“I understand what you are saying, Snape, and in fact did my own research when I returned to Enez-Sun.” He moved over to his trunk that stood open and leaned down to sort through the books. “Let me grab that journal and show you my own conclusions.” The book wasn’t in his trunk, so he moved over to the table where Hermione had spread several journals out the day before. He sorted through the lot and flipped through several pages. “Here. You can read how I took the same hypothesis and put quill to parchment.” He felt Snape move up behind him to read over his shoulder, and his breath stuttered. He cleared his throat before continuing. “As you can see, using the Sun Oil could lead to disastrous effects so one would need to find a less volatile base.”

“But if you tempered the flaxseed infusion with fireweed extract, you could forego the newt eye altogether,” Snape’s warm breath across Harry’s ear was nearly his undoing. He took a deep breath.

“I can see where you are coming from, but we didn’t have the ability to tame the fireweed when I was working on this.” He reached across the table for the quill Hermione had left sitting out, and the curve of his arse brushed against Snape’s thigh. He bit back a moan and shifted against the table, pressing his aching cock into the hard surface. He straightened up and pulled a piece of parchment closer to him, making the notation Snape had just mentioned. He couldn’t help notice his shaking hand and hoped Snape didn’t see it. “That changes the entire composition. You would have to-” His breath caught when he was pressed against the table, Snape’s breath hot on his neck.

“How much longer are we going to play these games, Harry?” The soft voice hot on his ear.

Harry swallowed as Snape’s fingers plucked the quill from Harry’s grip. “I- it’s only been a few days since I’ve returned. I wasn’t sure- ah.” Harry melted against the warm mouth at his neck. Wet heat seared his skin as Snape’s mouth moved from Harry’s hairline down to his shoulder, long fingers resting on Harry’s hips.

“You have been teasing me with this body since you woke up,” Snape said, his fingers sliding under Harry’s tee and up his torso to tease at his pert nipples.

Harry moaned and leaned his head back against Snape’s shoulder. “Mmm. And thou hast been teasing me since I was sixteen.” 

Harry was reeled around and pressed back against the table, firm lips covering his before he could catch his breath from the sudden movement. Harry opened to the questing tongue and clutched at Snape’s robe as if afraid he might faint at the feel of those glorious lips on his. Snape’s tongue plunged into Harry’s mouth, sweeping his breath away with firm strokes and pulling a moan from Harry. Snape pressed against him, and Harry felt the man’s hardness pressing into his stomach. Snape’s mouth moved to suck burning kisses along Harry’s jawline, and Harry gasped, his knees definitely threatening to give out now.

“Can we- Dost thou- oh god,” Harry moaned as Snape’s tongue found a particularly sensitive spot just behind his ear. 

“Bed,” Snape growled, and Harry groaned in agreement. A second later Harry was being pressed into the mattress, and Snape blinked down at him in confusion. Snape shook his head with a huff of laughter and covered Harry’s mouth once more. Harry let his hands roam over the svelte figure above him, feeling the toned chest beneath the robes. His glasses were pulled from his face, and the tee was pulled over his head. “Can’t think of a damn thing when you’re wearing these clothes,” Snape growled against Harry’s neck.

Harry smirked as his hands clutched at the robe at Snape’s back. “And thou thinkest thou shalt be able to concentrate better when I am not wearing them?”

Snape pulled back to glare at Harry. “Still an impertinent brat.”

Harry pressed his hips up against Snape’s thigh. “Perhaps I need thou  to teachest me a lesson.”

Snape attacked Harry’s neck then, and Harry mightily approved. He slid a hand into Snape’s hair and grasped at the silken strands, pressing the mouth firmly against his neck. A hand slid up to tease and pinch at his nipples, and Snape ground his erection against Harry’s.

“Oh. Ay. Severus.”

Snape growled against his neck and moved to suck on Harry’s earlobe. “Dare I mention what it does to me when you speak like that?”

Snape was working his way down Harry’s neck, his lips and teeth pulling at skin. “Y-you like it? Like it when I lose control and forget to watch my tongue.”

“Oh, ay,” Snape whispered before his tongue flicked at Harry’s nipple.

“Oh! Shall I tell thee how I wish for thy shaft in my mouth?” Harry jolted at a particularly sharp nip. “Ay. Or how I long for thee to fill me and empty thy seed inside me.”

Snape let out a soft moan. “Harry.” Harry felt himself stiffen at the strange sound of his name on Snape’s lips and the man pulled back.

“What? What’s wrong?” Harry shook his head.

“No. It’s just...I’ve never heard my name spoken like that. In that way.”

Snape eyed him curiously. “None of your lovers used your name?”

Harry gave him a look. “Severus, I explored my sexuality in King Arthur’s court. My first lover said little more than ‘yes, yes, more.’ Lancelot was…gentle, but never knew me as ‘Harry’. ‘Tis just... odd to hear.” He gave the man a reassuring smile. “Not bad, just odd.”

“You will get used to it,” Snape said as a hand slid down to pull at the buttons of Harry’s borrowed jeans.

Harry smiled brightly at the man. “Will I? This, then, is not a simple one-time fumble in the dark?”

Snape glared at him, and Harry gasped as cool fingers slid over his heated shaft. “I do not ‘fumble in the dark,’ Mr. Potter. I can assure you I am quite capable of handling  _ this _ .” He gave a slight tug of Harry’s leaking cock, and Harry moaned, arching up into the touch.

“Oh, ay.” Harry’s fist tightened in Snape’s robe. “Why art thou still robed?”

Snape smirked down at him. “I don’t know,  _ Harry _ . Perhaps because you have been preoccupied enjoying my touch.” His hand slid up to grab the waistband of the jeans.

Harry smiled up at him. “Ay. That I have.” He smirked at the man and a second later a very naked Severus Snape was blinking down at him.

“Well, I must say, that is expedient. I imagine your other lovers found it so as well,” Severus commented offhandedly.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “Er, well, my first lover was unaware of my magical abilities and Lance did not care to be completely naked.” 

Snape furrowed his brow. “But your other lovers, Harry. The wizards-”

Harry shook his head. “I have never been with any other, and never a wizard.” Snape opened his mouth to say something else and Harry shook his head. “Can we not, Severus? Just make love to me. Please.”

Severus let out a soft growl and pulled at Harry’s jeans and pants. He lifted his hips and banished his boots so Snape could get Harry’s clothes off. Harry let out a moan of appreciation as Snape’s body covered his. Snape slipped from his reach as he kissed his way down Harry’s body, teasing at the sensitive nipples, running his tongue over Harry’s defined abs. “How did you get so fit?” Snape whispered against Harry’s belly button.

“Um. sword practice. Arthur insisted I be able to wield more than my wand.”

Snape chuckled as his tongue dipped into the depression. “So Excalibur is for more than show.”  Snape ran his long nose against Harry’s hard shaft, and Harry’s fist gripped the sheet beneath him.

“Oh, ay.” Harry whimpered as Snape’s tongue teased the base of his cock. His tongue flicked its way up Harry’s shaft and teased over the head. Harry was gasping with need. “God’s teeth, Severus,” he cried out. “Take me in thy mouth and stop thine infernal teasing.” Snape’s breath was hot against Harry’s skin as he let out a soft chuckle. Harry nearly screamed as he was enveloped in wet heat. Snape’s tongue slid over him as his mouth slid up and down Harry’s length. Harry let out an incoherent curse as he pushed against Snape’s firm grip on his thighs. Soft hair brushed against Harry’s thighs as Snape moved over him, mouth sliding up and down Harry in a languid fashion. Harry gasped and moaned at the sweet sensation. He bucked when Snape’s tongue pressed and flicked at the underside of his shaft, sending jolts of ecstasy through Harry’s groin. Harry cried out when the tip of his cock brushed against the back of Snape’s throat and Snape swallowed around him. His fingers clutched at the dark strands that his hand had somehow made its way to. “Ay. Severus. Oh, ay.” Harry’s hand moved to Snape’s shoulder and he grabbed at the bare skin, trying to pull the man up. “Severus, please. I need thee.” 

A hand slid inward from Harry’s thigh and pushed his legs apart. Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and grasped the vial that flew into his hand and pushed it at Snape. Dark eyes looked up, glanced at the vial, then back at Harry. Harry’s breath caught at the view of thin lips wrapped around his cock. “God’s teeth, Severus. Thee looketh… amazing.” Harry licked his suddenly dry lips and pressed the vial at Snape once more. “‘Tis mine own formula.” Snape’s eyebrow went up and Harry had to stifle a giggle at the picture. Snape took the vial and let Harry slip from his mouth.

“Not too keen on pig fat shoved up your arse?” Snape smirked as he uncorked the vial.

Harry rolled his eyes. “It has the added effect of cleansing one’s partner as well. Quite handy when one’s main source of bathing water is the nearest creek. Oh, ay,” Harry hissed and fell back as Snape’s oiled finger slid over his entrance. “Lots of oil and then I need thee in me. I have dreamed of this for too long.”

Snape moved over him as his finger pressed into Harry. “Been dreaming of me for long, Harry?”

Harry nodded as he tried to focus on the man over him. “Nigh on twenty years, Severus. Would it stroke thine ego to know thou wast a big reason for me wishing to return?”

Snape gasped and crashed his lips to Harry, his tongue plunging into Harry’s mouth, matching the rhythm of his finger coating Harry’s entrance. A long finger slid over Harry’s prostate and he gasped and arched into the touch. Snape pulled back. “You like stroking my ego, Harry?” Harry smiled coyly and nodded. “Let’s see what else you can stroke.” Snape’s finger pulled from Harry and he poured the oil into his hand before coating his cock. Harry watched avidly as Snape stroked himself and moved to line himself up to Harry’s entrance. Snape leaned down to press small kisses to Harry’s lips and neck as he pushed in. Harry clutched at Snape’s shoulders, sliding his hands down to grip at Snape’s hips as he was filled with the large cock.

“Severus. Ay.” Snape let out a groan as he pushed into Harry, stretching him, filling him.

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so tight.”

Harry chuckled. “It’s been awhile, love.”

Snape glared at him. “Cheeky brat.” Snape gave a final thrust and Harry gasped. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“So dost thou,” Harry panted and wriggled beneath Snape as his body adjusted to the intrusion. Harry clenched his muscles and Snape jerked over him.

“Fuck.”

Harry smiled up at him. “Move thine arse.”

Snape glared at him. “Are you always such a pushy bottom?” Harry clenched his muscles again, and Snape growled. Harry moaned in appreciation as Snape slowly pulled out and pushed back in. Harry wrapped his legs around the slender hips and arched up into the slow push and pull as Snape moved over him.

“Oh, more,” he begged the other man. “Oh, please.” Snape increased his pace, thrusting into Harry with firm, hard strokes, making Harry’s breath catch. Snape raised up to his knees and grabbed Harry’s hips to pull him closer. Harry cried out as the tip of Snape’s cock brushed against his prostate. “Oh, ay. Ay, Severus. Again.”

Harry clutched at the blanket beneath him, his other hand going to his dripping cock. He wrapped his fingers around himself and began to pump his aching cock, matching the thrusting of Snape’s hips.

“Harry,” Snape groaned, and Harry pumped faster. “Merlin, I’m so close.” Harry gave a cry as his cock pulsed in his hand and he spilled come over his belly. Snape tensed over him and thrust hard. “God. Merlin. Fuck, Harry.” Harry shuddered as Snape pulsed deep inside him, filling him with his warm come. Snape pumped himself dry before falling to his hands over Harry. He pressed his lips to Harry’s for a vicious kiss as he gently pulled out. Snape dropped to the bed beside Harry with a groan.

“Hmm. Well, two out of three isn’t bad, I suppose. I do appreciate the vote of confidence, but I have no intentions of applying for godly status.”

Snape snorted. “Go to sleep, brat.”

Harry cast a cleaning spell and curled up next to Snape. “You do realize we are the same age now, don’t you?”

Snape wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist. “I wouldn’t be in your bed if we weren’t.”

 

Now that Harry knew Severus was willing to give a relationship with him a chance, Harry was ready to move forward with his life. He had spent the last twenty years pretending to be a man he wasn’t and eight years before that fighting against a madman because of a prophecy. He was ready to settle down and try normalcy for a change. Or as normal as Harry would ever get. He rolled over in the warm bed and slid his arm around the slender figure next to him. His lips connected with the smooth shoulder, and he moved his lips over the warm skin until he couldn’t go any further. He rolled over until he was straddling the sleeping figure and continued to kiss his way down Severus’s torso. He suckled on a pert nipple until a soft moan escaped the sleeping man’s mouth. Harry continued his downward journey until he found his treasure. He pressed his nose into the thatch of dark curls, and licked at the base of Severus’s growing cock. His hand slid between Severus’s parted thigh and stroked the man’s balls as Harry ran his tongue up the hard shaft. He inhaled Severus’s scent as he placed small kisses up and down the long member, flicking his tongue over the velvety softness. He swirled his tongue around the head and wrapped his lips around the tip, sliding down the long shaft. He hummed in approval as Severus’s cock slid to the back of his throat. Severus shifted beneath him with a soft groan, and Harry took that as approval and bobbed his head up and down the shaft. Severus’s breath quickened and his soft pants grew more audible as Harry worked his mouth over the leaking cock. He teased at the head and took Severus deep, swallowing around the glorious treat. Harry stroked Severus’s balls, pulling another moan from the man and set a steady bobbing motion, sucking Severus down his throat. Slender fingers slid into Harry’s hair, and Severus writhed beneath him. The curling fingers and bucking hip were his only warning before Severus climaxed with a “Harry,” his warm seed spilling into Harry’s mouth.

The moment Severus was spent, Harry was pulled from the waning cock and found himself on his back. It was only the matter of a few hard sucks before Harry was crying out Severus’s name and returning the favor. Severus’s mouth was on his before Harry had even caught his breath. He moaned at the taste of himself on Severus, mingling with the aftertaste of Severus’s own come. Severus pulled back with a gasp and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Merlin, Harry, that was incredible.”

Harry gave a breathless chuckle. “I’m glad you approve, but you really only need to use one of my names.” Severus jerked back and glared down at Harry.

“Impertinent brat.” Severus rolled off of Harry. “We should get down to breakfast before you are missed.”

Harry nodded and summoned their clothes. He handed Severus his green robe. “At least you won’t have to walk through the hallways back to your room.” Harry motioned to their connecting door and it swung open. Severus turned to look at Harry, narrowing his eyes at the man.

“Did you plan this?”

Harry felt himself blush as he slid to the other side of the bed and slipped his pants on. “The door was already there, but I won’t hesitate to say I had hoped it would be to my advantage.”

Severus gave a snort, and Harry turned to see the man pulling his own pants on, the green robe draped across the bed a rumpled mess. Harry let his eyes linger over the curve of the man’s arse. “And what would you have done if I had not made a move last night?”

Harry turned away and stood, making his way over to his dresser. He glanced over his shoulder, “I would have kept luring you to my room with the secret works of Merlin. I have at least three more potions journals, you know?”

Severus turned to run his eyes over Harry’s near-naked form. “So does that mean I gave in too soon? Should I have waited until you had exhausted your inducements?”

Harry gave him a saucy smile. “Perhaps you should think of it as... discovering a new set of inducements.” Harry gave a shrug and turned back to rummage through the drawers. “Or you could think of a few inducements of your own to convince me to share my work with you. I  _ can  _ be persuaded, you know.”

Harry had almost forgot Severus had been a spy for many years, and the hands on his hips pulling him back against a firm body, startled him. “Does this mean I should stock up on Chocolate Frogs?” Harry moaned at the feel of warm lips against his neck.

“Frogs, cake, ice cream. I’m flexible.”

Severus gave a deep chuckle. “Yes, you are.” Harry felt his cheeks heat up at the memory of their second bout of lovemaking during the night. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a terse staccato on his door. He gave Severus a questioning look but the man shrugged as he pulled away from Harry. Harry summoned his dark blue housecoat and sent it to Severus as he crossed over to the door. Harry waited until Severus had the belt tied before pulling the door open. A frantic Hermione stood in the hallway, took one look at him, and pushed him back into his room before closing the door.

“Really, Harry. What if I had been Professor McGonagall?”

Harry shrugged. “Then I would have answered the door thus as well.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Get some clothes on. McGonagall and Kingsley are on their way. There’s been a development.”

“That would be my cue to find appropriate attire as well,” Severus said.

Hermione blinked and looked to where Severus was crossing the room. “Oh, hello, Professor.”

Harry had to smile at Hermione’s blushing cheeks and Severus’s stoic facade, as if it were nothing to be found gracing a former student’s rooms half-clothed. “Ms. Granger.”

Harry intercepted Severus’s path and wrapped his hand around Severus’s arm. “You’ll come right back?”

Severus nodded. “I will. But I do not fancy parading about in borrowed robes. At least not in front of your friends,” he added softly. Harry blushed and pressed a quick kiss to Severus’s lips. The Slytherin gave a half smile and shook his head. “Gryffindor.”

Harry chuckled and released Severus to finish finding clean clothes. He heard the connecting door close as he pulled on a pair of borrowed jeans. He really needed to get to muggle London for some clothes.

“I see you found a use for that connecting door,” Hermione said slyly. Harry chuckled and pulled a shirt over his head. 

“I don’t think it’s quite what Minerva expected when she assigned me this room,” Harry said as he caught his glasses and slipped them on. He stalked over to his wardrobe, pulled his royal blue robes from the hanger, and slipped them on. After so many years wearing a robe, he felt almost naked without the swish of fabric swirling around his body. There was another knock on his door, and he looked up as it swung open to reveal Ron, Minerva, and Kingsley, all three looking more serious than he had seen them in a long time. They strode into the room; Harry closed the door behind them and held up a finger. “One moment please.”

They gave him a curious look, but Harry had long ago lost the desire to explain himself. A moment later the connecting door swung open and Severus stepped through wearing his own set of midnight blue robes, hair freshly combed and pulled back. Harry turned to the group.

“Alright. Speak.”

They blinked at him, but Kingsley spoke. “We received another gift just over an hour ago.”

Harry glanced at Severus but he shook his head. “How is that possible?” Harry demanded. “Severus and Draco were the only ones involved in that.”

“This one wasn’t sent by portkey and was sent as a warning,” Minerva explained. She cast a worried look at Severus. “The girl was tortured beyond aid. She was lost before she ever arrived here. Had possibly been gone from the beginning, days ago.” Harry felt his stomach clench. Severus moved forward, as if he was expecting the words Minerva would say next.

“Who?” He asked firmly.

Minerva’s eyes shot away from Severus and her jaw tensed. “I’m sorry, Severus.”

“Who?” He demanded once more.

“Ms. Parkinson,” Minerva said softly. Harry felt the anger radiating off Severus, and he stepped over to his lover. He laid a hand on Severus’s arm; Severus turned and pulled Harry against him.

“She should not have been there,” Severus said gruffly into Harry’s hair. “We were told she had left months ago. They must have been holding her.”

Harry ran a soothing hand over his lover’s back. “He is seeking revenge on thee and calling me out.” Severus nodded.

“No more waiting, Harry,” Severus said as he released Harry.

Harry stepped back and shook his head. “Nay.” He turned to face the onlookers and noticed Ron’s shocked look. “Take me to the girl.”

Hermione nodded and headed towards the door. Harry paused at the sight of the small group of Slytherins gathered in the hallway. He met Draco’s grey eyes, and  Harry’s fingers clenched at the wand in his hand, though he had no memory of summoning it.

“I will avenge thy housemate, Malfoy. No more will die at the hands of that monster.” Draco nodded, and Harry turned to follow Hermione to the hospital ward.

The girl was pale, her blood drained from the torture wounds. She looked like a young child, the pouting, sneering almost-woman he remembered gone, replaced by this frail specimen that had been no match for a man like Voldemort. “He preys upon the weak because he is too insecure to accept his fate,” Harry snarled. “Every man must die, and tonight I will force said fate on the cruel monster that did this.” Harry placed a hand on the girl’s chest and jerked it back as the dark magic nearly overwhelmed him. “Tell me she has no family.” He looked up at Minerva who gaped at his demand. His eyes fell to Severus. “Tell me she has no one that will miss her.”

Severus shook his head. “Her only parent was killed in a raid last year.”

Harry nodded. “Step back.” No one moved. “STEP BACK!” he roared, and everyone scrambled to move to the edges of the room. He cast the simple spell, and the body went up in a rush of flames, leaving behind only ashes on the untouched bed.

“Harry,” Ron gasped. “What the hell?”

Harry turned apologetically to Severus. “She was bespelled by the Inferi curse. She was moments away. I am sorry.”

Severus swallowed thickly and nodded. “Thank you, Harry. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

Harry nodded and turned to see the crowd of Slytherins that had followed him at the infirmary door. “I am sorry for your loss. Draco, gather the ashes. We will have a memorial for the girl this afternoon.” The blonde nodded and moved forward. “Draco.” His one-time nemesis paused and looked at him. Harry conjured a green and black marbled urn with the Slytherin crest emblazoned on the front and held it out to the man. He took it with a nod of thanks.

Harry led the remainder of the group down to the Great Hall where he knew the castle inhabitants had been gathering for breakfast. He knew the “civilians” would have long since been cleared out leaving only those that were to fight. He stopped outside the doors and turned to look at Severus.

“When I was your student, you would often accuse me of seeking attention. Of relishing in the glory of my fame. I always hated that about you.” Severus opened his mouth to say something, but Harry shook his head. “But the thing is, you have to admit, I always knew how to make an entrance.”

“Potter,” Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry, “What are you about to do?”

Harry gave him a wink, and Hermione let out a soft moan. “Oh, Merlin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that made up for my lateness.


	13. Chapter 12

The entire Great Hall fell into a hushed silence as the doors swung open and Harry strode in, his friends and the Slytherins coming in behind him. He strode to the front of the room and turned to face the crowd, spotting Draco with the urn as he slipped into the dining hall. Harry cast a silent  _ Sonorous _ on himself as he looked over the crowd of Aurors, Order members, and those ready to fight, the others having already been sent to their quarters with news of Voldemort’s “calling card.” Harry took a deep breath.

“Many of you woke up this morning thinking it was just going to be another day. We know now that this is not so.” A quiet murmur broke out over the crowd. “This morning Voldemort had sent a message to those that would defy him.“ He cast a significant look at Severus. “A fellow classmate was delivered to our doorstep on the verge of death.” An echo of the lingering outrage spread across the room. “The worst part,” Harry continued, “is the girl was sent not only as a warning and a proclamation of war, but a weapon. She had been infected by the  _ Inferi  _ curse.” Panicked whispers grew, and Harry raised his hand. “I have contained the threat before she was able to rise and infect any others, but I cannot ignore the implications of what this means. Voldemort is calling me out. And I will answer his summons. As of five minutes ago, no one within the grounds of Hogwarts will be allowed to leave. There will be a funeral for the deceased victim this afternoon and directly after that it is time we prepare for war. I will destroy Voldemort once and for all, and we can finally move forward with our lives.” Harry glanced over the crowd of mismatched soldiers and gave a firm nod. “Many years ago, a great wizard walked among our people and lived among the muggles. He wielded a power that none have known since, and accomplished much in his short term by King Arthur’s side.” Gasps echoed around the hall. “He promised he would return when we needed him the most, and I have no doubt that the threat that looms before us is greater than any we have known before. He left behind two legacies: a sword and a wand. Tonight, those two legendary weapons will once again join their true master to defeat the self-titled ‘Voldemort’ once and for all.” Harry looked out at the crowd, his eyes lingering on some of the older Aurors. “I know some of you doubt my ability to lead. I have heard you scoff at the idea of a mere child leading the Order, but I have never truly been a child, have faced Voldemort more than some of the seasoned veterans here today. I have studied and fought alongside some of the greatest warriors in Britain, culminating in tonight’s final battle. You have called me many things in your lifetime. The Boy Who Lived, a liar, The Chosen One, Dumbledore’s man. But I have only truly held two names. It is up to you which one you follow this night. Harry Potter…or Merlin.” In true Merlin style, there was a flash of smoke. Gasps and murmurs went around the hall as the smoke cleared, and Harry stood there looking like the Merlin these people had grown up knowing. He ignored the growing murmurs and turned to Kingsley, his eye catching the shaking heads of Severus and Hermione. He smirked at them and caught Kingsley’s eye. “I want to see your team leaders in three hours in the war room.” He turned to his friends without waiting for Kingsley’s answer. “Ron, I want you and Severus in the war room. I need a topical map of Nott Manor and a tactical plan in the works before the Aurors show up. Draco, join them as soon as possible. Have any of you others been to Nott Manor?”

Zabini stepped forward. “I used to spend summers there, Pot- Har- Mer-”

“Oh for-” Severus interrupted. “His name is Harry, and get rid of that ridiculous get-up, Mr. Potter.”  Harry chuckled. “Bloody hell,” Severus mumbled, “all you were missing was the sword.”

Harry jerked his head up, eyes bright with excitement. “Oh. Do you think it would have made a bigger impression?”

“I doubt you know how to make a small impression, Mr. Potter,” Minerva said, and Harry chuckled.

“Alright, Zabini, as soon as you are able, join Severus and Ron in the war room. Any information you can add will be grateful.”

“What’s the plan, Harry?” Hermione asked.

Harry pressed his lips together. “I want all available persons surrounding the manor. Once Voldemort is dead, the wards withholding them will drop, and they’ll flee like rats from a ship. Which reminds me,” he turned to his godfather. “Sirius, Remus: Peter’s at the manor. He won’t be able to leave in rat form, so keep an eye out for him. We need him alive. Or at least in human form when he dies.”

“And what do you plan on doing, Mr. Potter?” Harry winced at Severus’s cold tone. Probably because he knew Severus already knew what he was about to say.

“I’m going in to kill Nagini and Voldemort.”

“By yourself, I presume,” Severus said flatly.

“Of cour-”

“Of course,” Severus snapped. “Once again, the Chosen One deems all others beneath him and chooses to act on his own with no care to the recourse of others.”

“I  _ have  _ to do this,” Harry told him.

“You do not have to do it alone,” Severus sneered.

“It has to be me,” Harry argued. “You know that. I have to be the one to kill him.”

“Yes.  _ Kill _ him. That doesn’t mean you have to face him alone,” Severus said vehemently.

“Ay, it doth,” Harry growled back. “‘Tis always he and I. Alone. Ever since I was a babe, I have faced him alone. None stood by my cradle when he casteth that first Killing Curse. None stood by my side when I faced Quirrell, nor in the Chamber, the graveyard. It matters not how many follow me; in the end, ‘tis only ever he and I.”

Severus grabbed Harry’s robe and pulled him close, sneering down at him. “Not. This. Time.” 

Harry looked up into those dark eyes. “I cannot lose thee, Severus,” he said softly. “Not when I have just found thee.”

Severus’s dark eyes moved over Harry’s own face, drinking him in. “You won’t,” he promised and pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “Go eat. You, out of us all, will need your energy.”

Harry nodded and watched Severus join Ron as they headed to the largest classroom on the ground floor that had been designated as the war room when they had first moved their base of operation to Hogwarts. Harry turned and made his way down to the kitchens where several house elves were happy to supply him with a hearty breakfast. Afterwards, he made his way up to his room and pulled open his trunk. When he had first returned to Hogwarts he had spent some time sorting through Hermione’s bag and pulling out all the things he had stuffed in there over the years and moved them to his own trunk. He sorted through those things now until he found the box from Gringotts and flipped it open. The very first Order of Merlin was there, as was the very last Knights of the Round table medallion. But they weren’t what he was searching for. In among the medallions were four strips of leather. He picked them up and felt the magic pouring from them. Years of adding protection spells and enchantments to these four strips of leather echoed in that magic. Every time he had felt a pang of homesickness and longing he had pulled these out and added to their enhancements, knowing they would be needed eventually. He tucked them into the pocket of his robe and headed to the door. He paused and reached out to grab the sword and scabbard that flew into his hands. He flung it over his shoulder as he stepped out into the hall. 

Harry made his way down to the castle entrance and out to the lake. He wasn’t really surprised at the turnout, almost every inhabitant of the castle was at the lake. Harry made his way over to where his friends and godfather stood at the back of the crowd. They turned to welcome him with thin smiles. He looked at Hermione, so young yet so old at the same time. He pulled a length of leather and reached for her hand, pulling it up and draping the leather over her wrist. She watched him curiously.

“I would ask you to stay behind, if I thought I wouldn’t get one of those looks. Your tolerance of Ron and I over the years is probably the only thing that has kept us alive. Now it is my turn to return the favor.” The length of cord tied itself around her wrist, and she jerked with a gasp. “Stay safe tonight, ‘Mione.” She clutched her wrist to her chest and nodded.

Harry turned to Ron and repeated the movements, draping another length of cord over his freckled wrist. “You were one of the very first people I called friend, and, no matter how many fights we had over the years, you always came back. I expect you to come back once more tonight.” They watched the leather tie itself off, and Ron nodded.

“Absolutely, mate.”

Harry smiled up at Ron. “I met Bilius, by the way.” Ron looked at him in confusion before comprehension dawned.

“Yeah?” he asked with a smile.

Harry nodded. “He was one of the first to join the Order of Merlin. I think he would have been proud for you to carry his name.”

Ron glanced over at the lake blinking furiously, and Harry moved over to Sirius. His godfather held his hand out before Harry had to reach for it, and he draped another cord over his wrist. “Despite what your mum thinks, there were plenty of blood traitors in the Black line before you ever came around.” Harry blinked the wetness back. “His name was Regulus, and he was married to a squib. He was quiet and preferred to work in the background, but he helped get a lot of the original laws passed.” Harry was pulled into a rough hug.

“Thank you, Harry.” Harry nodded and looked over at Remus. He held up the last string.

“I have one more, if you want it,” he said cheekily.

Remus shook his head in exasperation and held out his arm. “Can’t let anything happen to me, now can we? Who would keep Sirius in line?” Harry chuckled as the cord wrapped around Remus’s wrist. 

“They have similar enchantments and protection spells as to what were on the Knights’ medallions, but these are better, because I worked on them over the years with the four of you in mind. A true labor of love. If love is my greatest power, then it should be used to protect those I love the most.”

“Um, Harry, what about Snape?”

Harry smiled at Hermione. “Don’t worry about him. I have him covered.” She gave him a soft smile and nodded. They turned at the sound of Minerva’s voice. Harry had asked her and Severus to speak at Pansy’s funeral, hopefully to keep the service focused on the girl rather than Harry himself. 

After the funeral, the crowd dispersed with some going for walks on the grounds and some returning to their quarters, but the majority going to the Great Hall or the war room. Harry finally entered behind Kingsley and made his way to the front of the room where Severus was talking to Ron and Draco. He placed a hand on Severus’s elbow, and the man looked over at him.

“A moment, Severus.” Severus nodded, and they stepped to the side. Harry pulled the sword and scabbard from his back and grabbed the medallion that adorned the scabbard. He tore the trinket from its hold and pressed it to Severus’s chest. “That was fashioned for King Arthur himself with all the protection and safety charms a man of his status would need. Thou wilt keep it upon thy person this entire night.”

Severus placed a hand over Harry’s and nodded. A small smirk played at the thin lips. “I knew you’d find a way to keep me safe.”

Harry chuckled. “Who is the impertinent one now?” He fashioned the scabbard around his waist as he had seen Arthur do many times in their years together, and they moved back to the front of the room. 

 

The Dark Lord, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort, née Tom Marvolo Riddle, made his way through Nott Manor. He was not happy. He had sent his declaration of war to Harry Potter that morning and had heard nothing from the brash youth. This was so unlike the boy he had sought to destroy for the last several years. He had no doubt that somehow the brat was responsible for the defection of Snape and the younger Malfoy. Voldemort sneered, Lucius had paid for that. Voldemort also had a sneaking suspicion that Harry Potter was the reason he had been unable to leave this blasted manor. He wasn’t quite sure how Potter had snuck out six prisoners, three Death Eaters,  _ and  _ managed to alter the manor’s wards without Voldemort noticing. Many had paid for that the morning he had discovered the breach. None more so than the girl, though. 

Voldemort strode into the ballroom and stopped. Anger welled up inside him at the sight that met his eyes. A figure in a dark robe lounged-  _ lounged! _ \- in his chair. The only chair in the room sat upon a small dais at the front of the room like a king’s throne. Dark hair framed the familiar face, and black eyes glanced lazily over at him. He advanced menacingly.

“Ssseverusss. You dare to return?”

The man held up a wand, and Voldemort stopped in his advance. “I brought Merlin’s wand,” the traitor said, as he waved the coveted apparatus around like a common stick. “Ironically, I also brought Merlin himself. He was, justifiably, rather reluctant to relinquish his wand to me.”

Voldemort fought the urge to look around, not daring to fall for the treasonous coward’s tricks. He raised his own wand at the spy. “Cru-”

“I wouldn’t do that, were I you.”

This time Voldemort did turn at the words. He blinked. This was Harry Potter that stood before him, but not the Harry Potter he remembered. What had the boy been up to? Had he taken an aging potion? “Harry Potter. Finally come to face your destiny?”

The man strode forward. “Hardly, Tom. I came to make you face your own.”

Voldemort growled at the hated name. “Do not call me by that mudblood name. I made you bow before me once, boy. I will do so again.”

“No. I don’t think you will, Tom,” Potter said in that infuriatingly smug tone. He held his hand out, and the wand from Snape’s hand flew into it the same time he withdrew a sword from the scabbard at his side.

“Impossible,” Voldemort hissed when he saw the unmistakable markings on the blade.

Potter looked at the sword as if he hadn’t realized he held it. “No. No, I don’t think so. The Lady of the Lake has held onto it for me for over a thousand years. I am quite sure this is the same sword which Arthur was gifted.”

Voldemort scoffed. “Children’s tales, Potter. The Lady of the Lake does not exist. A story made up by muggles.”

Potter shook his head. “No. No, I’m fairly certain the Lady exists. If you know where to find her.”

Voldemort sneered at the arrogant brat. “What would you know of it?”

Potter shrugged. “You see, Tom. The thing is: you have an uncanny way of orchestrating your own demise. First there was the prophecy, that, had you ignored, would have never come into play. I would have grown up a sheltered, spoiled boy, with nary a thought of how to bring about your demise.” Voldemort watched as the boy-man held the wand casually, as if it would slip from his fingers at any moment. The sword was held the same way, resting against Potter’s thigh. “Well, other than perhaps joining the Order of the Phoenix or becoming an Auror. And then your quest to seek out Merlin’s wand,” he held up the light oak wand in his fingers, “which led me on the same quest. Well, things being as they are, namely me being who I am, I went in half-cocked with no plan. Short version, for your benefit, since you are always so gracious with your own dialogue, I went back in time, met the sisters of Gallizenae, blah blah blah and... Turns out: I am Merlin.”

Whatever the boy had done to age himself had driven the boy crazy. “Impossible.”

“I assure it’s not. Oh, I see. You expected Merlin to look something like…” a rush of magic and the young man was replaced with a familiar-looking man with long silver hair, long white beard, and blue eyes. “I based him off Dumbledore. What do you think?” The boy/man held his arms out as if in a fashion show, showing off his new look. “Fairly accurate. Ironic isn’t it? I’m fairly sure Dumbledore based his own look off Merlin.”

Voldemort scoffed. “Simple enchantments. Child’s play. Merlin was more than his looks.”

Potter gave a smile and a sharp bow. “Why thank you, Tom. I do appreciate the sentiment.”

“Your delusions of grandeur have gone on long enough, Potter.”

Potter laughed harshly. “ _ My _ delusions? I never claimed to be more than I am. Why don’t you ask Severus who he woke when he got to Merlin’s tomb?”

“Severusss? That traitor? I have no interest in anything he has to say.”

Potter shrugged and lifted his arms, a wand in one and a sword in the other. “Do you know? the first time I saw Godric Gryffindor, he was wielding a sword  _ and  _ a wand? They were fake of course, as he was only about ten at the time, but I will never forget that. It was the same day I met Salazar Slytherin. A shy boy, but quite nice. He and I used to practice our Parseltongue for hours.”

“Liar,” Voldemort cried. “Stop your blathering and prepare to die.”

Potter chuckled and shook his head. “I have been prepared for years, Tom. But I have no intentions of dying tonight.”

“Then why have you been avoiding the inevitable and yammering on?”

“Oh, I wasn’t avoiding anything. I was simply waiting.”

“For what?” Voldemort hissed.

Potter gave a smile that sent shivers down Voldemort’s spine. “That,” the man said simply, and the sword flew from his hand. Voldemort watched as the famed Excalibur flew through the air and was caught by Snape. Right next to where Nagini had appeared as Voldemort had ordered his pet. He watched in muted horror as Excalibur sliced through his beloved pet’s body, severing the head. Voldemort turned in hatred and anger at Potter, but the boy’s wand was already aimed at him. Damn the boy for distracting him! Potter’s luck had held true once more. Green light flared around Voldemort, and he closed his eyes against the brightness.

 

Harry watched the green light fade around the falling form and looked up at Severus. Severus’s dark eyes were glued to the figure on the floor. Harry watched as they moved from his fallen master to the bloodied sword still in his hand to the decapitated snake that lay at Severus’s feet and, finally, up to meet Harry’s. Harry felt his lips twitch, and Severus’s eyes fell back to the figure on the floor then rose to meet Harry’s once more, his thin lips rising in a smile. Severus let out a bark of laughter, and Excalibur clattered to the floor as he and Harry moved towards each other. Harry crashed against Severus with a small “oomph” and wrapped his arms around Severus’s neck as long arms surrounded his waist. He smiled up at Severus.

“He’s gone. We did it.”

“You did it,” Severus whispered, his dark eyes boring into Harry. He scrunched up his nose slightly. “Now get rid of that ridiculous beard so we can celebrate properly.”

Harry chuckled as he felt the transformation wash over him. “Better?”

“Indubitably,” Severus growled low in his throat before his lips covered Harry’s. Harry opened his mouth to accept Severus’s questing tongue and moaned at the warm invasion. He pressed his own tongue into Severus’s mouth and relished in the glide of wet muscles. He tasted Severus, sucking and nipping on his lower lip. They kissed for several long minutes, slow and languid, hard and passionate, gasping into each others mouths. Harry gloried in the feel of Severus’s teeth nipping at his lip, sucking on the swollen flesh before moving down to lick and suck at his neck. Harry pressed against Severus and felt the man’s growing hardness and moaned in approval. His fingers slid up into the soft strands of Severus’s hair and clutched the man closer. Firm fingers gripped his hips and held Harry against the svelte body of his lover. Severus slowly pulled back, leaving small kisses along Harry’s throat and lips.

“We should investigate the rest of the manor in case they didn’t all flee,” Severus said softly.

Harry nodded and stepped out of Severus’s embrace with a sly smile. “As soon as I can slip away from the celebration, you are all mine.”

Severus’s lips lifted to a smirk. “I shall eagerly await your commands.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Git.”

Harry grabbed the hilt of the sword as it flew into his hand, turned and headed towards the entrance as the ballroom door flew open. His wand and shield were up before the person walked through the doorway. Harry heard Severus growl as they lowered their wands.

“Truly, Mr. Weasley, do you think it safe to barge into a room occupied by the most powerful wizard in existence without a single word of warning?”

Ron’s face turned red. “Sorry, Harry. Sir. We just got worried when neither of you came out.”

“Merlin!”

“What?” Harry said, glancing over as Kingsley, and several others stepped into the room. Harry winced. He really needed to stop doing that. Kingsley blinked.

“Apologies, Harry. I only meant, well...” he indicated the desecrated snake and prone form of Riddle on the floor.

Harry pulled a face. “Yes, bit of a mess, innit? We should probably remove the body to the Ministry and keep it under protection until it can be destroyed.”

Kingsley nodded and directed two of the senior Aurors to deliver the corpse to the head of the Unspeakables Department. Hermione, Remus, and Sirius came rushing into the room as the Aurors moved forward. Hermione threw her arms around Harry, a large smile on her face.

“You did it, Harry.”

Sirius clapped him on the back. “You should have seen it, kid. The way all those filthy Death Eaters came pouring out of here. Like rats deserting a ship. And speaking of rats,” he added with a smile.

“You got him?” Harry asked hopefully.

Remus nodded. “Sent him to the Ministry with Tonks and Moody.”

Harry gave a terse nod and turned back to Kingsley. “Casualties?”

“None on our side.”

Harry nodded. “Good. We need to do a sweep of the house and grounds to make sure everything’s cleared out,” Harry said as he watched the body being levitated out.

“Already taking care of it, Harry,” Kingsley said. “I’ve got Malfoy and Zabini with Auror teams since they know the house; Longbottom and the twins are sealing any windows or doors from the outside except the front door; and I’ve got Arthur and several others positioned in and outside. Your job is done here. Go back to the castle and report to those waiting. It’s going to take some time to get things cleared up here, but that’s what the Aurors are for.” Kingsley smiled brightly at him. “Go deliver some good news, for Merlin’s sake.” The man winced. “Sorry. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

Harry chuckled. “You and me both.” He turned and reached a hand out towards Severus. “Let’s go.”

Severus stepped up to him and took his hand. “Gladly.”

Harry nodded at his friends. “See you at the castle.”

“Alright, mate,” Ron said as Hermione nodded.

A moment later they were in the entryway outside the Great Hall and turned to make their way into the dining room. Harry paused outside the doors, and Severus laid a hand on his back. Harry smiled softly up at his lover. 

“Ready?”

Harry gave a shrug and added a bright smile. “Once more unto the breach.”

Severus rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, Merlin.”


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't want to post this chapter because it's the last one and I absolutely loved writing this fic and all the wonderful comments from you lovely readers. Thank you for staying with me through all this, and I hope it's been worth your time.

The Great Hall was filled with the families and wounded who had stayed behind. The room went silent as Harry stepped through the doors. He looked at the hopeful eyes that stared back at him.

“Tonight, when you finally find your beds, you may lay your heads on your pillows knowing your children will grow up in a better world. Your loved ones are safe, and the only death tonight was Tom Riddle. Voldemort is no more,” he added, just to clarify, and the hall suddenly filled with cries of relief and joy. Harry called for Dobby and Kreacher and ordered a celebratory feast to be prepared, and he made his way, slowly and with much interruption, to the front of the Great Hall and eventually slumped into his usual chair beside Severus as he placed the still-bloody sword on the table. Severus handed him an amber filled glass, and Harry drank it down.

“‘Tis much smoother these days,” Harry commented, looking at the glinting liquid. “They did not have the technology that is available to brewers now days.”

“Do you miss it?” Severus asked softly.

Harry looked around at the celebrating families, spotted Ron and Hermione among a small group of redheads, and shook his head. “Nay. This is where I belong. This is my true destiny.” He glanced over at Severus, and the man was watching him with those dark ebony orbs. “Thou art my destiny.”

Severus reached out and curved his hand around the nape of Harry’s neck and pulled him closer until their foreheads were resting against each other. “And you are mine, Harry James Potter. Merlin.”

Harry stared into Severus’s eyes and tried to convey with his own eyes how much this man had come to mean to him in such a short time. Severus gave him a soft smile and pulled back to place a kiss on Harry’s forehead.

“Word will get out,” Severus said as he moved back against his chair and picked up his goblet. “They will never leave you alone.”

Harry shrugged. “At least I will be known for who I am, even if it is an alternate identity. At least they’ll know me for me and not as The Boy Who Lived.” Severus nodded, and they watched the celebration, people smiling and raising glasses at Harry. Harry took another sip of his whiskey and placed the glass on the table, running his fingers over the wet rim.

“What?” Harry looked up at Severus and gave a wry smile.

“Thou knowest me too well.”

“Mmm,” Severus said with a raised eyebrow. Harry turned to look back over the crowd.

“I wish to open the school back up in September.”

“Obviously,” Severus said. “And? I assume you will take over duties as Headmaster, since no doubt Minerva will wish to retire soon,” he added, and Harry’s eyes fell on his weary-looking former Transfiguration professor across the room.

Harry nodded. “The castle wishes it; and, I fear, like you said, they will demand much from me. If I am Headmaster, they cannot expect me to be Minister.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Severus nod and looked out over the crowd. “Kingsley would make a good Minister.”

Harry nodded. “He works well with Hermione. They will make a formidable team.”

Severus snorted. “And prepare her to take her place as future Minister.”

Harry chuckled and reached a hand under the table to squeeze Severus’s thigh. “Can you blame me? Kingsley will do well for the coming Reconstruction and Hermione will lead us into a new age of Renaissance. They are well suited to their destinies.”

Severus’s hand covered his. “Mmm. Figured us all out have you?” Harry shrugged and looked over to meet Severus’s dark eyes. “And me? Where do I fit in in all of this?”

Harry swallowed. “I hoped to have you by my side. I thought-” Harry swallowed. “I know you do not like to teach, but I thought, perhaps, if you only taught the NEWT levels, those that were truly interested.”

Severus blinked slowly at him. “And what would I do with the rest of my time?”

Harry shrugged. “Brew. Experiment. I have nearly twenty years of journals with half-finished potions. I would be honored to collaborate with you.”

Severus let out a bark of laughter. “Merlin, the greatest wizard, honored! To brew with me.” He shook his head. “You truly are something, Harry.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up. “And I’d like you to be my Deputy.”

Severus’s smile faltered, and he studied Harry. Harry’s stomach clenched in fear that he had pushed too far. “Harry, I would be honored to serve with you.” He reached up, pushed a lock of hair from Harry’s face, and let his fingers slide down Harry’s cheek. Harry pressed a kiss against the palm.

“There will be much to do.”

Severus nodded and reluctantly moved back. “Yes. Starting with a new school board. Ms. Granger would be ideal to get it started.”

Harry smiled shyly at Severus and nodded. “I think we will start immediately. The muggleborn committee will need to start delivering introduction letters soon. We will probably need twice as many teachers; the usual class size will be doubled. I thought for the incoming first years we could perhaps, instead of classes by house, do a sort of random class schedule. Anyone that attended before the school was closed can return at the next school level if they wish. The first few months will be more of an assessment of where they are and then placed appropriately.”

“You really have thought this through,” Severus said as several dishes appeared on the table in front of them.

Harry nodded and reached for a leg of lamb. “I’d also like to have mandatory introductory classes to wizarding and muggle cultures one Saturday a month. The muggle studies professor can conduct those for the first years. And a sort of exercise class. Just because we are wizards and can do everything with magic is no reason to get lazy. Quidditch is good, but not everyone likes to fly.”

Severus had filled his plate but was still looking at Harry. “Alright. So, first things first. You sit down and write out your ideas and plans. I will get with Ms. Granger, and we will start putting together a list of possible board members and approach them when you are ready. We will put the word out about school restarting, and I have no doubt you will soon be inundated with applicants for the teaching positions. Have you thought of Heads of House?”

Harry looked up from his potatoes. “I didn’t think you-”

“Merlin, no,” Severus said sharply, and Harry laughed.

“I had hoped to have Neville for Herbology and Gryffindor Head." Severus nodded. “Good call. Draco is passable in Potions.”

Harry nodded. “Do you think he would make a good Head of House?”

Severus took a bite of his roast as he thought and finally nodded. “I do.”

Harry nodded, considering it and took a bite of his lamb. “I suppose we shall have to see what else comes up. I’ll need OWL and NEWT scores for any applying and-” a hand on his stopped Harry’s flow of words. He looked up at Severus, a blush filling his cheeks.

“Harry, we have plenty of time to discuss all this. It’s only May. Enjoy your victory,” he motioned around the Great Hall. “This is all for you. Allow these people to honor their hero, and tonight I will honor you in a private celebration,” Severus added in a low voice that sent thrills through Harry. “One week, Harry. There will be questions by the Ministry and interviews to give. The Dark Lord may be dead, but there are still loose ends. Let’s get those in motion, and then we will begin to worry about the school.”

Harry gave Severus a grateful smile. “See? This is why I need you as my Deputy. You will keep me focused.”

“I do so like you focused,” Severus purred, and Harry shifted in his seat.

The chair beside Harry was pulled out, and he looked up to see Hermione flopping into it. “I think Ron is enjoying this more than I am.”

Harry laughed as he glanced at his friend surrounded by people as he related some version of events that had most likely not occurred in the capture of the Death Eaters. He patted Hermione’s hand. “Let him have his fun.”

“Oh, I intend to. Just so long as he doesn’t drag me into it.” She straightened up and began filling her plate. “So what are you two discussing?”

Severus chuckled and turned to his food as Harry began speaking of the school; and Hermione’s eyes lit up.

 

“Oh, god,” Harry moaned as he was pressed against the door. Wet heat moved over his neck as Severus licked a path up the taut line from jaw to shoulder. Harry gasped as teeth dug into his muscle. “Severus.”

“I have been waiting for over an hour,” the man growled against Harry’s ear, “and I am ready to burst.” He dug his hard erection into Harry’s stomach and Harry whimpered. He knew he shouldn’t have waited for Kingsley. When Severus had mentioned he’d had enough of the crowd, Harry had told him to head on up and he would be there as soon as he’d had a word with Kingsley. That word had turned into an hour long conversation, and drinks with the returning Aurors. He’d had to plead exhaustion to get away. Not that he wasn’t exhausted. Hell, it was after two in the morning, but he was much more interested in- oh, yes! That. Harry let out another whimper as Severus’s hand slid over Harry’s own growing hardness. Severus’s breath was hot on Harry’s ear as he pressed against him.

“Tell me, oh Great Merlin, have you ever enjoyed another man’s tongue in your arse?”

Harry grasped onto Severus’s robe as his knees threatened to give out. “Oh, god!”

“Bed. Now,” Severus demanded and a second later they were falling back onto the cool sheets. Severus raised an eyebrow at Harry and he shrugged as he yanked his glasses off and tossed them onto the side table.

“I couldn’t walk,” he defended.

Severus moved to straddle him and began unbuttoning Harry’s robe. “I will make sure you can’t walk.”

Harry arched up against Severus with a moan of approval. “Do you- Can I- Let me-”

Severus chuckled. “Poor Harry. Even with the power of Merlin you are still an incoherent mess.”

Harry glared up at him. “‘Tis thy fault,” Harry spat out. “I cannot think when thy cock is demanding my attention.” Severus’s chuckle turned to a growl as their clothes settled on a chair across the room.

“One of these days we are going to undress each other without any magic whatsoever, Mr. Potter.”

“Ay. I am sure one of these days I will learn to take my time,” Harry said, doubt clear in his tone. “Until then thou wilt just have to learn to go faster.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Faster? Perhaps you just do not fully appreciate the concept of taking one’s time. Turn over, Mr. Potter.”

Severus moved off of Harry to allow him to turn, and Harry quickly flipped over and tucked his knees under his stomach. He wriggled his arse and cried out when Severus’s palm slapped across the tender flesh.

“Impertinent brat. You will notice I brought my own vial of lubricant.” Harry turned to look at the small jar on the table beside where his glasses had landed. “While your own formula,” Severus leaned over him, his hard cock brushing against Harry’s arse and Harry bit back a moan, “is quite good, my recipe has a little something…” Severus pressed his cock between Harry’s arse cheeks, “extra.” He unscrewed the cap and dipped a finger in. “Mine is edible. With a nice flavor,” Severus added with a whisper against Harry’s ear. Severus’s finger slipped between Harry’s lips and he swirled his tongue around the coconut flavored digit with a moan. Severus pulled his finger from Harry’s lips and dipped it back into the jar as he pulled his body away from Harry’s. Harry shivered at the rush of cool air, then shivered again when a slick finger pressed against his hole and wriggled its way just past the first barrier ring. Harry moaned at the sensation. “I do so love coconut,” Severus said as his finger disappeared. Harry tensed when he felt warm air ghost across the oiled flesh.

“Oh, fuck!” He cried out at the first swipe of Severus’s tongue. “Oh god!” Harry panted as Severus toyed with him, licking and swirling his tongue all around the puckered hole. Harry’s fingers dug into the sheet as he tried to push back. Severus teased him for several minutes or lifetimes, depending on who was keeping time. Finally, with one last long swipe of his tongue, Severus pressed the tip against Harry’s hole and pushed in. “Oh, ay, Severus. Ay,” Harry keened as Severus pushed in, his slick muscle pushing past Harry’s rings and thrusting into him. He could feel Severus’s large nose pressing against his arse and he pressed back. Harry panted as the slick sound of Severus’s tongue fucking his arse followed by obscene slurping noises as Severus sucked on him filled the room. “Fuck. Fuck. Severus.” Harry held on as long as he could, not wanting this delicious experience to end, but eventually he needed Severus inside him. “God’s blood, Severus. Fuck me! Please.” Severus must have been just as on edge as Harry was, because he gave no objection as he pulled his tongue out and thrust his hardened prick quickly into Harry. His large cock was already covered in oil and he didn’t even pause before grabbing Harry’s hips to hold him steady and began pounding into him. Harry pushed himself up on his hands to hold his torso off the bed and Severus reached around and began to pump Harry’s cock with a well oiled hand. Harry moved frantically, shoving himself back on Severus’s cock and thrusting into his warm hand. “Severus. Severus. Ay!” Harry’s entire body shuddered as he pulsed in Severus’s hand and spilled himself onto the sheets below. Severus worked his cock until he was empty and moved his come slicked hand to grab Harry’s hip. Half a dozen thrusts and he cried Harry’s name as Harry felt Severus’s warm seed fill him. Severus’s sweat slicked forehead rested against Harry’s back as they paused to catch their breaths. Eventually Severus grabbed Harry and rolled them onto the bed, his cock slipping from Harry as they moved. Harry curled into Severus’s warmth and felt a different kind of warmth spread through him when Severus pressed his lips to Harry’s shoulder. Harry smiled contentedly as exhaustion began to set in. “Love you, Sev,” he mumbled.

Harry felt the mess on his body and near his hip on the bed disappear and cuddled under the blanket that was pulled over him. He slid a hand down to grab the muscled thigh of his lover and pull it over his own. A matching arm slid around his waist and pulled him tight against the hard planes of Severus’s body, another kiss was pressed to his shoulder. “Love you, too, Harry Merlin Potter,” Severus whispered against his cooling skin.

 

“Get the door,” Severus said sleepily, nudging Harry in the thigh.

Harry buried his face in the pillow. “Don’ wanna. ‘S ‘Mione ‘gin.”

“Doesn’t she ever sleep?” Severus asked as he pushed on Harry’s shoulder and hip, rolling him over.

Harry flopped his arm over his eyes to block out the light. “No. Not when she’s on a mission.” His arm was pulled back and his glasses were slid onto his nose. Harry blinked and turned to glare at Severus. “You’re more awake than I am. Why don’t you go get it?”

That familiar smug smile stretched across Severus’s lips. “Because _I_ cannot fully clothe myself with a mere thought. And, it’s your rooms.”

Harry snarled at the man and pushed the covers off as a dark green robe wrapped itself around him. He really had no wish to see his friend again. It had barely been six hours since they had parted. Harry ran a hand over his face, feeling the morning stubble, and stood to push his feet into his waiting slippers.

It had taken nearly a month to wrap up the “loose ends” from the war with Voldemort, rather than the week Severus had promised. Which put them behind on the school re-opening schedule. Severus hadn’t been wrong about the inpouring of applications for professor positions, and they had spent several hours each evening reading through them and sorting their choices to put before the newly-instated board members. They had already spent over a week discussing the new curriculum with the board and had finally moved on to selecting the muggleborn welcoming committee, which consisted of equal numbers of muggleborns and pure or half bloods so that the pairs that went to introduce the new muggleborns to the school had some knowledge of the muggle world. Overall the process was not very painful, merely tedious, but Hermione felt it needed to be done as soon as possible. Harry understood, really he did, but these two a.m. curfews and eight a.m. wake up calls were getting ridiculous. He and Severus barely had the energy for a proper night of lovemaking these days; the man hadn’t complained of Harry’s method of de-clothing them in over a week.

Harry stopped at the door and looked over at Severus smirking from the bed, the royal blue sheets against his pale skin causing Harry’s breath to catch. “It’s our rooms, you mean git. Just because it’s called the Headmaster’s quarters doesn’t mean you don’t get to claim part ownership. And another thing…” He smirked as a now-fully-clothed Severus glared up at him. Harry sauntered from the room and made his way through the spacious living area to pull the door open. The sneer and reprimand died on his lips when he saw Kingsley standing there.

“Minister.” Kingsley waved the title away as Harry stepped back to let him in.

“Technically, still ‘acting minister,’ Harry.”

“Only because the vote isn’t until next week,” Severus said as he crossed to the small kitchenette and set the water to boil as he gathered the tea things.

Kingsley shrugged. “Hermione tells me plans for the school are finally going full steam ahead.”

Harry nodded. “Yes. We meet this morning to start discussing the professor positions. They’ll need to have time to put together a syllabus for each class. We’re having them use old textbooks this year to make it a bit easier. Hopefully next year we can get new books published and available for the students.”

“Potter wants to make sure the history books include his magnificent defeat of the Dark Lord.” Harry made a rude gesture to Severus, and the man raised an eyebrow. “Not in front of the guests, dear.” Harry smiled sweetly as Severus’s freshly made cup of tea dumped itself into the sink. Severus glared at him. “Brat.”

Harry turned back to Kingsley. “Was there a reason for your visit, Kingsley, or were you just interested in how the school was coming?”

“Actually yes,” Kingsley replied, pulling himself up into a full Minister mode. “The Ministry would like to award you with an Order of Merlin, first class.” Kingsley tried to hold his smile back, but at Harry’s burst of laughter the man’s grin broke free.

“First class?” Harry said in mock disbelief. “Me? Gee, I’m not sure Merlin would approve.” Harry turned to look at Severus who was shaking his head in a ‘Good Lord What Have I Gotten Myself Into’ kind of way. Harry laughed when he heard the man’s whisper.

“Oh, Merlin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few things: First of all, once again thanks to everyone who left Kudos and comments. I can't begin to express how much they mean to me. Also, if you'll grant me a week off to polish up a couple more fics, I'll get a one-shot posted for you in a couple of weeks followed by another multi-chapter.
> 
> I apologize for any glaring mistakes in regards to the time/era (I researched as much as I could, but I'm no historian). Also, HUGE, special thanks to my Betas Masao and Dannielle who spent hours reading and researching archaic language with me.
> 
> A few notes on the fic:  
> Elements of this story were taken from several different sources including, but not limited to, Wikipedia, Disney’s Sword in the Stone, and KingArthursKnights.com.
> 
> And in case you didn't figure it out / Just in case you were curious:  
> Cristobal = Christopher Columbus and Mari = Marie Laveau  
> Read the door inscription backwards. Like the mirror of Erised.


End file.
